


Money Power Glory

by LynGuerra



Series: Most Wanted [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Flashbacks, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Pre-Canon, Prostitution, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-06-28 09:45:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15704736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynGuerra/pseuds/LynGuerra
Summary: Benny lusted over a prostitute. They weren't the picture-perfect relationship, but it was enjoyable while they made it last. It's a shame that the same woman he lusted over ended up being the courier standing in the way of his plans to rule the sin city of the Mojave Wasteland.





	1. Come Over

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is named after the song by DEAN.

The waitress filled three empty glasses with ice and vodka. She placed them on a round tray and weaved her way through the crowded Aces Theater. The dimly lit theater bustled with Chairmen. If they couldn’t find a seat at the tables, they sat at the bar. Once the bar was full, many of the men leaned against the walls of the theater. The waitress arrived at a large round table where Tommy Torini sat alone. His fellow members of the Rad Pack Revue drank at the bar. Tommy's table was in the center of the Aces Theater and had clear view of the large stage.

“Thanks, baby.” Tommy said to the waitress as she handed him a glass of vodka. He picked up his drink and took a sip before placing his glass down. He shook his head in disbelief when he noticed Benny weaving his way through the crowd to get to his table. “It’s about time you came to one of the shows, Benny. What brings you here, boss?”

“Is there a problem with me being here, Torini?” Benny sat down at the table next to Tommy. Tommy motioned his hand in the air to get the attention of the waiter once more and ordered a glass of whiskey for Benny.

“I can count how many shows you’ve gone to on one hand.” Tommy quickly thanked the waiter when Benny was given a glass of whiskey. “And these must be some fine broads if you’re going to their show for a second time.”

“Or maybe I don’t trust your judgement on who to hire in my casino and need to keep a close eye on things.” Benny brought his glass of whiskey to his parted lips.

“Benny, baby, you’re still on about that.”

It wasn’t long until Tommy and Benny were joined by a woman. She was fairly tall and her slender body was covered in a loose black dress, the same color of the glasses that framed her face. The all black ensemble emphasized her pale skin and blue eyes. The woman extended her hand out to shake Tommy’s.

“You’re a friend of Benny’s?” Tommy asked.

“Associate,” Benny corrected him without looking away from his drink.

“Emily Ortal,” She introduced herself. “I’m doing some work for the Tops.”

“Tommy Torini, I’m in charge of all the talent that graces the Aces stage, baby. So, what does the boss man have you doing?” Tommy asked as Emily took a seat in the empty chair in the middle of the two men.

“At this point, I’m Benny’s temporary assistant.” She said.

“Not too bad. It’s not like Benny does much around the casino.” Tommy laughed.

“I give you a damn paycheck, ungrateful fink.” Benny said.

Tommy got up from his seat. “I’m just fucking with you, boss.”

Tommy walked to the stage, shaking hands with each member of the in-house band as he passed them to get to the center of the stage. He took a hold of the microphone and called out for the Chairmen’s attention. “Alright, cats, give a great welcome to The Jacquelines.”

Tommy took one step back from the microphone. Benny's ears perked up at the sound of the Chairmen whistling and cheering as the teal curtains of the stage slightly opened for a woman to step out onto the stage. She wore a skin tight red dress with high heels to match. Her lips were painted with red lipstick that flattered her clear dark brown skin. Black winged liner was drawn on her eyes and her pixie short hair was styled with finger waves. She kissed Tommy on the cheek before she strutted out towards the three microphones placed on the stage and claimed the one in the center. Tommy quickly got off stage and returned to his table. The in-house band began to play the instrumental to the pre-war tune. She swung her hips and the audience tapped their feet or clapped their hands in sync with the instrumental. Many of the Chairmen even sang along once the woman belted out the first verse to the song.

Tommy snapped his finger to the instrumental and slightly leaned his head towards Benny. “Jackie looks good tonight."

As Jackie continued to sing, the curtains pulled opened further and two other singers shook their hips as they stepped out to the stage. They wore the same makeup as Jackie, but dressed in tight white dresses that stopped just above their knees.

"They look amazing. What are their names?" Emily asked.

Tommy identified the one on the right of the stage as Diana. She had brown shoulder length hair that was slightly curled at the end. The lower half of her face and a few spots on her olive skin were imprinted with burn scars. Benny glanced over to the woman on the left with jet black, back length hair that was parted down the middle. He noticed a few tattoos on her left hand when the lights would shine on her brown skin. She stepped closer to the mic to sing with the other two women in the chorus. Her hips swayed to the beat and for a moment Benny swore her eyes directly met with his. Tommy identified her as Santana.

“Gee the moon is shining bright…” Tommy sang along under his breath. He tapped his fingers against his near-empty glass of whiskey.

Benny quietly studied the women on stage. On his right of the stage danced Diana. Her hips swung in sync to the music, but her thin legs wobbled unstably. She flailed her arms in the air as she danced and she mouthed words that didn’t even match the lyrics to the song. Her incorrect lyrics wouldn’t have affected the outcome of the performance, since her microphone must have been cut off.

Benny reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of caps. He sat them on the table in front of Emily and told her to get herself a drink from the bar. “Who’s selling her the chems?” Benny asked once he and Tommy were alone.

“Dammit, Swank…” Tommy sighed. “I told him not to say anything to you.”

“A chem now and then is fine, but I don’t want addicts working in the Tops.” Benny said. “It’s bad for business.”

“I know, boss. That’s why I’ve been trying to find out who the supplier is.”

Benny finished the last of his drink. “Any luck?”

“With all the cats that come in and out of Vegas, it’s hard to piece together, dig.” Tommy pursed his lips.

Benny glanced over to Jackie, who stood center stage. She held her hand over her stomach as she belted out an ad-lib. “Ever try asking the other girls?”

“I need them to focus on singing. It’s not as easy as it sounds, boss. Diana being addicted to chems is already hard to work with, but then there’s Santana. The girl doesn’t even know how to read. She has to learn the songs from Jackie singing to her and now Jackie wants her own solo act.”

“Tommy, stop fucking around with Jackie and deal with the chems.” Benny patted down his jacket as he lifted up from his seat. “On second thought, I’ll handle this myself.”

Tommy started to respond, but his voice was overpowered by the applause and cheer of the Chairmen. Benny walked over to the bar where Emily stood with her drink in hand. He told her to meet him in his suite on the thirteenth floor before making his way out of the Aces Theater.

Four armed bodyguards took their positions outside one of the suites on the seventh floor. Their hands gripped around assault rifles and a stone cold expression that mugged every patron that walked past.

She had just stepped out from her bathtub just as someone knocked on the door to her hotel room. It took Benny by surprise when the door opened to reveal Santana in nothing but white towel that barely covered her curvy body. She held her hand over her breasts to keep them concealed by the towel.

“Boss man,” Her voice was breathy, it contrasted against how strong and powerful it was on stage. Santana stepped aside for Benny to enter her room. She closed the door once he was inside and gestured her hand towards her bed where Benny could take a seat.

Benny settled himself on the end of the bed. Santana grabbed a room-temperature bottle of purified water from on top of her dresser and handed it to Benny. “Thanks pussycat.” Benny said.

Santana stepped into bathroom where she changed from her towel and into a satin robe that had a small Tops logo stitched on the left breast. “You never come over anymore, Benny.”

“This is about business, baby.” Benny tapped on the water bottle. “I know about Diana and the chems. What I don’t know, is how she’s getting them.”

“What’s the big deal? It’s not like she’s selling chems.” Santana took a seat next to Benny on the bed. “

“The big deal is that Tommy wants you three to be regular acts at the Aces for the public and a chem addict isn’t good for business.” Benny explained.

“Mixing business with pleasure isn’t good either.” Santana kissed Benny on the lips. He didn’t return the favor back, but Santana could feel his warm hand on her thigh.

Benny took a deep breath. “Baby, I need you to tell me about the chems.”

“Diana pays me not to say anything. I rat her out and I lose caps.” Santana said. “It’s not like you or Tommy are paying us. I have to make money any way I can.”

“Don’t say anything and I’ll kick your ass out of my casino and give you back to those fink Omertas.”

“Is that a threat?”

Santana could taste the whiskey laced with nicotine on Benny’s tongue when he kissed her. “It’s a promise, pussycat.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Baby, was I bluffing when I told you something would happen to friend of yours if you saw him again?”

“You didn’t do anything to Danny. I saw him playing blackjack last week.” Santana rested her hand on Benny’s cheek and lightly slapped him twice.

“You’re lucky that I don’t want to piss you off, baby.” Benny said.

“I’ll tell you what you want.” Santana brought her hand down to sit on her thigh. “There’s this weapons dealer named Troike. He was one of Diana’s regulars at Gomorrah. Instead of caps, he’d give her some of his jet. She’s still seeing him. They get high together at the El Rey Motel.”

“You aren’t supposed to leave the Tops.”

“We’re locked up like we’re in prison. Sometimes we want fresh air and your boys turn a blind eye. Is that too much to ask for?”

“Tell Swank what you know and he’ll take care of the rest.” 


	2. Suspicious Minds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains smut. Also, this chapter was named after the song by Elvis Presley.

Destroyed pre-war vehicles rusted away right outside of the El Rey Motel. It was a two-story building that had seen better days. Nearly every room had a broken window and a few doors were boarded up. Scraps of metal blocked off the right stairway to the second floor and a few of the chem addicted residents sat on the left stairway. They watched four well-dressed men walking towards the El Rey Motel. Their wingtip shoes stomped over the gravel of what was left of the parking lot to the motel.

One of the residents got up from the step he sat on and walked up to the group of men. He rolled up the sleeve to his torn jacket and scratched at his arm. His skin was scarred with cuts and track marks. “More fancy New Vegas sons of bitches wanna pay us a visit.” His voice was gruff and slurred.

One of the well-dressed men held his hand out for a handshake. “The name’s Swank.” He introduced himself.

The resident spit on the tip of Swank’s shoe. “I don’t give a fuck what your name is.”

Swank lowered his hand and stuffed it in the pocket of his grey slacks. “There’s no need for animosity.”

“This ain’t amamosity.” The man tried to sound out the word as best as he could, but still said the word wrong. His bloodshot eyes darted towards each of the Chairmen that stood behind Swank before settling on the man in front of him. “Take your girlfriends and get the fuck out of here. You’re not welcome here, just like we’re not welcome in your rinky-dink casino.”

“Diana Warner, does that name ring a bell?” Swank asked.

“Daya...” The man rubbed at his sunken cheeks. “I may or may not know her.”

“Swank, do we have to listen to this shit?” One of the Chairmen behind Swank asked.

“Diana works in the Tops Casino. She wasn’t there and we figured she’d be here. Have you seen her?” Swank asked.

The man slowly nodded his head. “She’s upstairs. Came a few hours ago.”

“Was she with anyone?”

“No. This guy comes by sometimes to see her, but I haven’t seen him. Maybe I missed him when I was sleep.” The man said.

The resident pointed at the hotel room upstairs as the one that Diana stayed in. The residents on the staircase made room for the Chairmen to be able to walk up the stairs. It creaked with each step they made. The room was the third from the left. Swank knocked on the door, while the three other Chairmen leaned on the balcony railing. They stared at the Lucky 38 hotel. It wasn’t lit up during the day, but it was still a great sight to behold.

“The Overboss has the biggest casino in New Vegas. You know how much caps he could make if he opened his doors.” The Chairmen shook his head at his own statement. “It’s a shame.”

There was no answer from inside of the motel room. Swank took a step back from the door and kicked his foot into the door. The weak wooden barrier swung inward and Swank walked into the room. The Chairmen turned around to join him inside, but there was no sign of Diana inside of the bedroom.

Swank sat on one of the two beds inside of the room and laced his hands together. “Torini isn’t going to be happy about this. Let’s head back to New Vegas and tell him she’s missing.”

“I’m going to take a leak.”  One of the Chairmen started walking towards the bathroom in the back of the room.

“Make it quick.” Swank said.

The room was silent enough to hear the hinges of the bathroom door squeal. That sound was replaced by a loud curse. Swank hopped up from the bed to see the man stumble away from the bathroom with his hand over his chest. The Chairman caught his breath and said, “I found her.”

Diana was sprawled across the bathroom floor. She was stripped down into nothing but her underwear. Blood stained her skin as well as the bathroom tiles underneath her. Her head was propped against the side of the bathtub and was nearly unrecognizable from how swollen and bruised her face was. Blood stained the bottom of Swank’s shoes when he stepped into the bathroom. He knelt down to Diana’s body and got a clear view of the stab wound on her chest. Swank gently grabbed her by her chin to get a closer look at her neck.

“You think she killed herself?” One of the Chairmen leaned on the doorway.

“There’s no sign of a struggle.” Swank let go of Diana. “But there’s also no murder weapon. Someone came in and cleaned up the mess.”

“Maybe it was a drifter or one of them addicts out there.” The Chairman guessed.

“I don’t know, but let’s get back to the Tops. The boss needs to hear about this.” Swank said.

* * *

There were two hard knocks at the door to the suite. Santana covered her bare body with her floor length white silk robe she had in the bathroom. Standing in front of her suite were two of Benny’s bodyguards. As all of his bodyguards did, they dressed matching grey chalk-stripe suits and wore brown fedoras. One of the guards had his back to Santana and kept watch on the hallway they were in. The other greeted Santana with a head nod and proceeded to say, “The boss would like to have a word with you in the courtyard.”

The guard took a step back, as a gesture for Santana to follow them. One guard led her through the hall, while the other walked behind her. They took the elevator down to the main casino floor near the courtyard entrance.

One of the guards walked ahead to open the door to the courtyard. Santana was the first to step through the doorway and the two guards entered behind her. Pre-war music played through the outdoor speakers in the faux island courtyard. There was a large pool in the middle of the courtyard where guests sat with their feet in the water, swam inside, and did cannonballs from the diving board. Besides the pools were several lounge chairs, one of which Benny lied on.

“Boss,” One of the guards said to Benny once they approached him.

“Give us some space, boys.” Benny took a hit from his cigarette. Santana sat on the lounge chair next to Benny’s and faced him. He exhaled a puff of smoke and reached into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. “You want one, pussycat?”

Santana leaned forward to grab the pack. She took out one cigarette and placed it in between her plump lips. Benny sat upright and turned his body to face Santana. He grabbed his lighter from the small round table between the lounge chairs and gave it Santana.

 “Thought you were gonna kick your addiction.” Santana crossed one leg over the other and lit her cigarette.

“Sorry to disappoint you, baby.” Benny watched as the sheer robe underneath slightly fell to reveal Santana’s thigh. His eyes traveled up to her cleavage and finally to her eyes that glared back at him. Benny tossed his cigarette to the sand and stomped it out.

“You’re full of disappointment.” Santana pursed her lips on the cigarette as she inhaled the smoke. Benny kept his eyes on her as she blew out the smoke from her mouth.

“We all can’t be perfect, baby.” Benny said.

Santana tapped off the excess ashes from her cigarette. “I am.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, for you, I’m as perfect as Vegas.” Santana tossed her cigarette to the ground and Benny stomped it out for her. “You think I’m beautiful, but inside I’m fucked up. I don’t bore you with details. I just give you the excitement you come to me for.”

The bodyguards that escorted Santana watched her and Benny from afar. They stood by one of the many palm trees that were lit up in the dark by the lights that were wrapped around the tree’s trunk. “Schmitt, what do you think?” The guard removed his brown fedora, and rubbed his hand over his bald head.

“It’s bullshit, Warren.” Schmitt cleared his throat. “Benny thinks he can skim us on caps and play babysitter for some whore he bought from the Omertas.”

“I was talking about the White Glove Society. Why do you think they wear those creepy masks?” Warren glanced over towards Santana and Benny. He watched his boss sit next to Santana on her chair. “She’s one of the broads from Gomorrah? Shit, I’d pay good caps to get to her.”

“Caps we aren’t getting paid.” Schmitt huffed. “I heard she and those other two girls were at Gomorrah before Tommy brought them to be singers at the Aces to do shows for the Chairmen.”

“How’d Tommy get them?”

“How should I know?” Schmitt shrugged his shoulders. Schmitt sighed and stopped talking when Benny walked passed by the two bodyguards with Santana following close behind him.

“What do you think they’re doing?” Warren asked as both bodyguards watched Benny and Santana leave the courtyard.

“Ain’t it obvious?” Schmitt loosened his tie and removed his fedora. “I don’t care. All I know is I need a damn drink.”

* * *

Benny stood at the bar in the living room of his suite and poured himself a glass of whiskey. In the center of the room were two mustard sofas with an asymmetrical coffee table in the middle of them. The sofas were positioned to face the fireplace, which Santana stood by.

“Baby, I don’t think you told me everything you know about Troike.” Benny raised his glass and took a sip of his alcohol.

Santana picked up a magazine that sat on the mantle of the fireplace. She skimmed through each page, only looking at the pictures since she couldn’t read what was written. “There isn’t much to know. He deals guns, sometimes to the Omertas. It’s not like I knew him personally.”

Benny sat his glass down on the bar. “He worked directly with those finks. He was probably getting that girl to tell him all about our operations.”

“The only thing Diana cared about was jet, not the Tops. Even if she was gonna rat, what could she even say? We don’t know about anything that goes on around here.” Santana tossed the magazine onto the coffee table.

“Those dirty finks have me on edge.” Benny made his way over to the sofa and sat down. “In the past week, five of my guys were found dead.”

“In the Tops?” Santana asked.

“No. Mr. House would’ve been on our asses if they were dead in our casino.” Benny leaned back into the couch cushion. “We found two in Freeside, two were in South Cistern, and one was in Fiend territory.”

“They were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Maybe, but everyone in the Mojave knows not to fuck with the Families. It doesn’t feel right.” Benny snorted and rubbed at his forehead. “You should go, baby. I have a lot of work to do.”

“Your assistant isn’t here to help you?”

“Ortal had some affairs to take care of in Freeside.” Benny said.

“I can help you.” Santana offered.

“No offense, pussycat, but my business is confidential.”  Benny stood up from the sofa.

“I wasn’t talking about that.” Santana stepped closer to Benny. Just as she did, he tasted of cigarette smoke, but with a hint of whiskey, when she kissed him.

She opened her mouth and ran her fingers across Benny’s chest. In his pocket, she could feel the outline of his lighter. She began to undo the two jet black buttons that held his checked blazer together. Benny grabbed the belt to Santana’s robe and jerked on the strings to pull her closer to him. A small smile spread across his face when the robe fluttered open to free her well-endowed breasts that the silk fabric struggled to conceal.

Santana pressed her breasts against Benny’s chest. He kissed her hard on the lips as his warm hand slipped in between her legs to rub her vulva. He was vigorous and sloppy. The only action he ever had in New Vegas was from the women in Gomorrah. He could do anything he wanted to them, as long as he had the caps.

“Pussycat, I can’t wait anymore.” Benny shifted his hand from Santana’s flesh to grab her by the arm and led her into his bedroom. Benny let go of Santana. Since it did nothing to cover her, she let the robe fall to the floor. She bit her bottom lip as she waited in front of the closed door for Benny to finish undressing from his suit.

The bedroom was silent, save for a faint whirring sound. Santana glanced to her left where she saw another closed door. “What was that?”  

“Don’t worry about it, pussycat.”

The whirring sound was quickly muffled by the music from the Aces Theater that managed to reach the thirteenth floor. Benny recognized the blues instrumental as the song, _Cobwebs and Rainbows_ by Bruce Isaac. The instrumental vibrated through the walls. Santana returned her focus to the leader of the Chairmen. She noticed the aged scar that ran through the center of his chest to his left ribcage. All she knew was that it was from his tribal days. He had told her the entire story after the first time they slept together, but she didn’t pay much attention.

His hands slid down her thigh. He raised her right leg and held it with one hand, while the other rested beneath her backside. Santana reached down to wrap her hand around the hard muscle that Benny concealed underneath his suit. She guided it until she had the tip pressed into her core. Being a calculated man, Santana figured that Benny would ease himself inside. Instead he cursed and thrust his length into her. Santana gasped and wrapped her arms around Benny’s neck.

He pounded himself deep inside of her, each thrust motivated by her aching moans. He lowered his head to kiss the top of her full breasts that bounced with every movement. Benny slowed down and slid out of her. He used his hand that was underneath Santana’s backside to lift her up until both of her legs wrapped around him. He pressed her back against the door and let one hand travelled down to caress her vulva once more. The other hand traveled up to clutch her breasts. Benny traced the outline of her areola with his thumb in a circular motion. He licked his lips as Santana moved forward so that her breasts were closer to his face. Without hesitation Benny kissed and licked her breast, before wrapping his mouth around her nipple. He brought his hands down to squeeze her body as he sloppily sucked on her.

Benny lifted his head only for Santana to kiss him on the lips. Her mouth gaped open as she felt Benny’s length thrust into her once again. She nails dug into his shoulder blades. Her wavy, black hair draped around his arm as she kissed and sucked his neck to keep herself from moaning any louder.

Benny’s speed waned, though each thrust still had power. He felt his muscles tense. His body trembled and he couldn’t control each thrust that pumped into Santana’s wet core. He gripped his hands on her hips and held himself inside of her. Just as Benny’s muscles loosened, Santana felt the warm, crawly torrent of semen nestle inside of her. Benny slowly pulled himself out. His own substance lubricated his softening member.

Santana kept her arms around Benny’s neck as her legs slid down to reach the floor. Benny held onto her tight as they leaned against the door. She combed her hand through his hair and planted soft kisses on his cheek.

Benny parted his lips to say something to Santana, but his attention was taken by the knocking on the door. He heard Swank’s voice. “Benny, are you in there?”

Benny took a few seconds to catch his breath before he responded. “What is it, Swank?”

“I just got a message from the Omertas, looks like they want to hold a meeting between the Families over at Gomorrah.” Swank called out Benny’s name in a low tone when he didn’t respond.

Swank could faintly hear Benny whispering. He figured the boss was talking to himself, until he heard the soft voice of a woman. Swank listened to the heavy footsteps and the unmistakable sound of a gun safety click off. Swank took a step back from the door when he saw the bronze doorknob turn. The door to the bedroom slightly opened.

“We’ll talk later, pussycat.” Swank heard the last of what Benny said. The door swung open and Benny stepped through the doorway. He slammed the door shut behind him and started walking out of his suite with Swank.

“I have your security in the lobby for you already, boss.” Swank held one of the double doors of the suite open for Benny to exit out to the hallway.

“Who gave you the message?” Benny pressed the call button to the elevator. The doors slid open and the two men stepped inside.

“They sent that piece of shit, Cachino.” Swank didn’t hide his distaste for the Omerta lieutenant. “The fink was insane; cursing and yelling all over the casino.”

“These finks better have something important to say.” Benny pressed the button to get to the main floor. “Did you find Tommy’s girl?”

“We found her dead in a motel room.” Swank answered.

“Santana didn’t know much about Troike, but she said he did business with the Omertas.” Benny said.

“You think those rat finks have something to do with her death.”

“It’s the only assumption that makes sense to me.” Benny said.

* * *

The fiery sign for Gomorrah sat in the middle of two neon depictions of women sitting with one leg in the air. The sign was the representation of what Gomorrah was known for; sex. It made the Omertas plenty of caps, especially from NCR troops that were stationed in New Vegas. They made up the majority of the patrons that occupied the in the lower brimstone of the casino.

Prostitutes danced on stages constructed around the bar in the center of the room. Omerta thugs were positioned in each corner of the room armed with 10mm submachine guns. Marjorie winced at the sight of scantily clad hookers and drunken patrons. The fairly short and pale older woman patted down the rose pre-war dress she wore as she walked through the club. Alongside her was Mortimer; A tall, thin man that wore a black top hat with a black tuxedo to match. The two were the rivaling leaders of the White Glove Society. They ran the most expensive casino on the Strip, the Ultra Luxe. The casino was known for being elite and pristine, while the White Glove Society members were notorious for their secrecy and the Venetian masks they wore.

The two leaders of the White Glove Society made their way to a closed off seating area in the northern right corner of the room. There were three vanilla colored chairs, two of which were occupied by the head of the Chairmen and right-hand man to the leader of the Omertas; Benny and Big Sal.

Benny was accompanied by his right-hand, Swank, who stood behind his chair. His four bodyguards were positioned off to the side and held a firm grip on their submachine guns. Marjorie sat down in the empty chair and Mortimer stood behind her. She glared at the leader of the Chairmen as he pressed his lips around the slim, white body of a cigarette. His cheeks were flushed and his usually neat pompadour was slightly ruffled.

Her glare shifted over to Big Sal. He was a largely built man. The grey chalk strip suit he wore couldn’t hide his protruding belly. He removed the brown fedora hat he wore and placed it on the small round table that was in the center of their chairs. Underneath the hat was a slick comb over that didn’t do much to help with his receding hairline. The clean shaved man that stood at Big Sal’s side was Cachino. The two men both sipped on glasses of vodka.

There was a silence between the three of them, but the way they all glared at one another was enough to know how they felt about each other. None of them trusted each other. If it weren’t for Mr. House’s power over their operations in New Vegas, the three reformed tribes would be at war.

Big Sal laced his hands together and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t like either one of you fucks.”

Benny turned his head and blew out the smoke he inhaled. “Something we can agree on.”

“Why did you have us all gather together?” Marjorie lifted one leg over the other.

“Not-At-Home wants us to play nice and that’s real fuckin’ hard to do with you motherfuckers interfering with Omerta business.” Big Sal grit his teeth.

Marjorie let out a brief laugh. “The Ultra Luxe and the White Glove Society do not associate with classless practices of prostitution, like you savages.”

Cachino pointed his finger at Marjorie. “Bitch, when I’m through with you…”

“Calm down,” Benny said to Cachino.

“Shut your fucking mouth, Benny!” A vein protruded from Cachino’s forehead.

Big Sal raised his hand as a signal for Cachino to cease yelling. He brought his hand back down to the arm of his chair. “Look around you, Benny. What do you see?”

“Strung out hookers in a rat-infested casino.” Benny answered.

“Money,” Big Sal said. “One hundred caps to get laid by the loosest broads in the city. Those bitches you have in the Tops were our girls and you took them right from underneath our noses. I thought this was supposed to be a time of coexistence between us.”

“The only thing that was keeping us in check was House and his securitrons.” Benny said. “But I’m sure he’ll understand my reasoning for going to war.”

“And what might that reason be, Benny?” Big Sal laced his hands together.

Benny removed the cigarette from his mouth. “I’m practically Mr. House’s right-hand and the Tops is the most profitable casino on the Strip. Do you think it’s a coincidence that, in a week, five of my men were hit and we found a body of an associate earlier today?”

“Are you blaming us, Benny boy?” Big Sal asked.

“I wouldn’t put it past you or the White Gloves. One of you is trying to shift the balance in power.” Benny claimed.

Marjorie pointed her finger at Benny. “You dare accuse the White Glove Society of such a thing.”

“The broad is right. It’s bullshit, Benny.”’ Big Sal said. “I’ll have you know that we lost two of our Freeside recruiters this week, too.”

“None of us want to fight an unnecessary war.” Marjorie said. “For the sake of New Vegas let’s put our judgments aside and think logically about the situation. This could be the work of outsiders. If that’s he case, we need to band together to show the strength of the Families and New Vegas.”

Benny stood up from his seat. “I’ll do whatever I have to, but I won’t work with either of you finks.”

“Go ahead and tear Vegas apart.” Marjorie tapped her hand on the armrest of her chair. “If the Chairmen interfere with the White Glove Society, there will be repercussions.”


	3. The Devil Spoke So I Leaned A Little Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is named after a line in the song Heavy Shoulders by TRACE.

The Tops was bustling with people. NCR troops, the locals, and visitors from out of town willing to lose every hard-earned cap filled the blackjack tables, Russian roulette tables, and slot machines. Every dining table was filled with patrons in the Tops restaurant and there were groups waiting to be seated in the waiting area right outside of the eatery. Benny and Swank sat together at a dining table near the back of the restaurant. Benny’s bodyguards acted a barrier between their employer and the patrons in the restaurant. Benny took a long drag from his diminished cigarette before smashing it into the ashtray that sat on one end of the table.

Swank cut a piece of his Brahmin steak and asked, “Boss, are you really thinking about going to war with the other Families?”

“It wouldn’t be war. Think of it as house cleaning or pest control.” Benny said. “Those finks are fucking with us and we have to take care of them at some point.”

Swank swallowed the piece of medium-rare steak that he chewed on. “We can’t get mad at a mongrel for biting our leg if we kicked them first.”

“Swanky, baby, relax with the fucking analogies.” Benny said.

“Boss, the Chairmen had no business taking in those women from the Omertas. Sure, Tommy was desperate for a new act, but you knew it wasn’t a smart move and yet you still allowed it to happen.” The other Chairmen were would bow down and kiss Benny’s wingtips before they dared to question his actions. Swank wasn’t afraid to call out Benny for something he felt was wrong and Benny was willing to listen. Maybe the lack of fear to disagree with Benny came from the fact that Swank was always close to him, even before he became the leader of the Chairmen. “I say we make some kind of truce with the Omertas. We gotta settle out the years of bad blood. Otherwise, we’ll lose caps.”

“Those broads are going to bring in revenue from NCR troops and tourists. We aren’t losing out on any caps, Swank.” Benny snapped to get the attention of one of his bodyguards. The bodyguard that went by the name Belmont slightly turned his head to see what his boss wanted. “Call the waitress over so I can order a drink.”

“Sure, we’ll be swimming in enough caps that can fill the Dam.”  Swank agreed. “But think about the state of Vegas in the long run if we keep butting heads with the Omertas. Sooner or later, people are gonna be able to see the tension between us and those shifty pack of rats. To avoid getting caught in the crosshairs they’re going to go find a new place to spend their caps, maybe over in Freeside or down in Primm.”

The bodyguards shifted their positions to allow the waitress to get close to Benny and Swank’s table. She held a pen and a small notepad where she scribbled down orders in cursive. Her thin lips spread into a beautiful smile when she arrived at the table. Workers who weren’t Chairmen often grew excited whenever they caught a glimpse of Benny in the casino, since it was rare to see him out in the open for a long time.

“What can I get you?” She clicked the pen and brought the tip to her notepad.

“Whiskey for me,” Benny glanced towards Swank. His second-in-command gave up trying to cut a piece of his Brahmin steak from the bone. He picked it up with his bare hand and ripped it with his teeth. Benny raised his eyebrows. “You want another steak to rip apart?”

Swank pulled the steak away from his mouth and said, “No, but thanks boss.”

“Just the whiskey then, doll.” Benny waited for the waitress to leave before saying. “We’re not tribal anymore, use a knife and fork.”

Swank tore off the last strand of meat off of the bone and sat the bone onto his plate. “Yeah, well, a cat’s got to eat.”

“Not like a fucking mongrel.” Benny said.

“And…” The waitress dragged out the word as she returned to the table with a glass of whiskey and a bottle in case Benny wanted to refill his drink. She sat the glass and bottle in front of Benny and left to go help another table. “Here’s your whiskey.”

“Look, Swank, you made a good point earlier. We won’t fuck with the Omertas, unless those finky bastards give us a reason to.” Benny grabbed the bottle of whiskey and handed it to his bodyguard, Belmont. Benny’s chair scraped across the restaurant floor and he lifted up from his seat. He picked up his glass of whiskey and said, “I’ll be in my suite if you need me.”

Benny sipped on his drink as he left the restaurant with his bodyguards following behind him. By the time he arrived to his suite on the thirteenth floor, the drink was completely empty. Benny took the bottle of whiskey from Belmont and ordered his bodyguards to stay outside of the hotel suite. As soon as Benny entered his room, the smell of freshly cooked eggs perfumed the suite. Sitting at the bar, Emily Ortal didn’t even look up from her dinner to acknowledge Benny.

“Is the securitron working?” Benny asked and closed the door behind him.

“I’m doing great. How are you?” Emily scoffed. She cut off a piece of the wasteland omelet with the side of her fork. The only place to get the dish was at the Ultra-Luxe’s restaurant, the Gourmand. Emily placed her order the day before to be able to pick it up in the morning. “The PDQ-88b securitron is coming together decently.”

“Just call it a securitron.” Benny sat placed his glass and bottle of whiskey on the bar to pour himself another drink. Benny finished up his second glass of whiskey before heading off to the backroom in his suite. The backroom was connected to his bedroom by a short hallway. Against the wall were a few tables with terminals and magazines. In the center of the backroom was a large securitron. It was in a sleeping state and Benny could see his reflection through the robot’s screen. Moments later, Benny noticed Emily standing behind him in the reflection.

“I should have the securitron back online in a few days. The EMP damage nearly fried the entire system.” Emily lifted her glasses with one hand and rubbed at her tired eyes with the other.

“Baby, I’m starting to wonder if you were the broad for the job.” Benny rubbed at his chin. “You keep telling me that this thing will be back online. Today you say it’ll be a few days. That’s what you told me last week and it’s what you said a month before that.”

“I never had the chance to tinker with this technology. I’m learning as I work, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t figure it out.” Emily said. “I’m already stressed out from not having any information to bring back home to the Followers. I don’t need you to add on to my stress.”

* * *

There were two armed Omerta Thugs positioned outside of the double doors to the Don’s hotel suite. Anyone trying to see the Don would be turned away and told that the Don was working on important business. When Big Sal approached the suite, the Omerta Thugs greeted him and allowed him access. Don Federico Nero lived in the largest suite in Gomorrah. There were three bedrooms inside of the suite, one of which was renovated into an office. Nero stood up from his chair at his mahogany desk and stretched his arm out for Big Sal to take in his and kiss the top of Nero’s hand. Once Big Sal let go, Nero gestured his hand for him to sit at the chair across from his desk.

Nero patted down the jacket of his black pinstripe suit. The suit appeared oversized on his small frame. “How are you, Salvatore?” Nero spoke in a low tone.

“Things could be better, Nero.” Big Sal was one of the few to be able to call Don Nero by only his surname. Nero didn’t mind if anyone in the Omertas referred to him by his surname, but the members respected the hierarchy too much to do that.

“I’ve been hearing.” Nero leaned back in his chair. “What the fuck is going on, Sal? You said this was going to be a clean job to take out Benny. Now, we got a pile of bodies and the Chairmen are staring at us. What went wrong?”

“The Fiend I hired double crossed us. He took out some Chairmen, and even some of our men, during their deals outside of Vegas for fun.” Big Sal explained. “Now, he’s back in Fiend territory sitting nice and cozy with the chems we gave him for his services. We don’t have enough firepower to retaliate to those fucking junkies.”

“The fact that it was a Fiend would be enough for Benny to turn a blind eye towards us, but now that girl was killed. It made things complicated.” Nero tapped his index fingers together.

Big Sal cleared his throat. “There was a reason for that.”

“This better be a good fucking reason.” Nero’s kept his tone low. It was what scared everyone the most. Nero didn’t have to yell or throw items around to show his power. He conducted his business with calm demeanor. Despite Nero’s distaste for the leader of the Chairmen, it was one thing he learned from Benny. “There was no reason for her to die. Who cares if she’s working for the Chairmen, we had other girls to replace her.”

“She was Troike’s favorite. He stopped coming to Gomorrah for a while when the Chairmen got a hold of her. Another one of our suppliers told us that he’d been going to the El Rey Motel for that girl. Troike has connections to the biggest weapon dealers in the Mojave, but he don’t do work for nobody on the Strip. He doesn’t want NCR on his back and he didn’t want get involved with any of the Families.” Big Sal said. “I ordered some of our soldiers to perform the hit. It was the only way to force Troike into our pocket.”

“Now we can stop throwing caps away for those peashooters from Mick and Ralph.” Nero figured that was what Sal was getting to.

“Exactly,” Big Sal smirked. “Troike was so high out of his goddamn mind that he thinks he killed that girl and the Omertas cleaned up the mess for him. He don’t wanna get on Benny-boy’s bad side and so we’ll keep him protected. Of course, in return the Omertas will get access to the best weapons in the Mojave. Free of charge.”

“That is a good fucking reason.” Nero laced his hands together.

“We’re gonna get all the weapons we need to take out those pretty boys at the Tops and those clowns in the Ultra-Luxe.” Big Sal clasped his hands together.

“Then do what, get killed by Not-At-Home’s securitrons. We aren’t starting a war again... for the time being. Until we find a way to get the upper hand, we need make sure business is good between us and the Chairmen.” Nero’s said.

* * *

The backstage lounge in the Aces Theater didn’t have much inside of it. There were two burnt orange sofas to relax on and a cooler that stored alcohol, Nuka-Cola, and Sunset Sarsaparilla. Santana sat at one of the four vanities. On the vanity was a mannequin head that wore a long black wig. She held one hand on top of the wig and gently brushed the hair, starting from the bottom and working her way up to the top.

Without the wig on, her hair was shaved down to a buzz cut and the Roman numeral, thirteen, was branded onto her neck. Santana glanced over towards the backstage entrance when she heard the door creak open. “This is a disaster.” Jackie’s cried out as she entered the longue. She tied the belt to her robe tighter before she threw herself onto one of the sofas. “We’re one girl down, and Tommy had the nerve to change our name from The Jacquelines to The Bombshells. Did you have something to do with that?”

Jackie pouted when Santana was silent. “I’ll take that as a yes, since you didn’t deny it.”

Santana stopped brushing her wig and sat her brush onto the vanity. “I have better things to do then listen to your bullshit.”

“Oh…” Jackie raised her eyebrows. She was about to say something, but the door to the longue opened once more and Tommy entered the room.

He rubbed his hands together and smiled. “Today’s the big show for the Rad Pack. I need you two to be ready to introduce us on stage. It’ll be the first time New Vegas meets you, so look your best.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s the first time.” Santana took her wig off of the mannequin’s head and situated it onto her own.

“I’m sure all of the Mojave met you at Gomorrah, Sonny.” Jackie said.

* * *

Emily sat on Benny’s bed with her legs spread apart and slightly slouched over. Her right arm lied over her thigh, while she held an atomic cocktail in her left hand. Directly across from the bed was the dresser, which Benny leaned against the side of.

“It’s baffling. House…” Emily sighed. “He has so much technology and yet he refuses to open up the Lucky 38 and share his technology with the rest of the Mojave.”

“I don’t blame him. There are some things that are meant to be kept to oneself, baby.” Benny slightly lowered his head as he thought. _“Although, Vegas isn’t one of those things.”_

Emily lowered her head and used her free hand to ruffle through her short, brown hair. “Once that PDQ 88b securitron is up and running. It’ll probably give an insight as to what House may be using for himself.” Emily lifted her head and looked up at Benny. “I have my reasons for wanting to play around with the securitron. What are you trying to do with it?”

“You’re asking questions you have no business asking.”

“If you think that I’ll tell anyone, I won’t. I know how to withhold information.” Emily lifted her head and sipped on her atomic cocktail.

“Ask again, baby, and I’ll see to it that you won’t step foot in New Vegas ever again.”

“Okay, you made yourself clear. I’ll stop pushing the question.”

Benny was a lot different from the first time that Emily had met him. She knew he was a classic New Vegas type; flashy, self-righteous, and self-important. Benny checked out all of those characteristics, but the fact that he was the leader of one of the Families had everyone in the Old Mormon Fort turning their heads at his presence. Emily was the most familiar with Benny. She had never met him, but her research on Mr. House led her to knowing the leaders of the three Families without meeting them in person.

Emily studied Benny as he stood across from her in her hotel suite. He was quiet, just like he was when he stepped through the Old Mormon Fort, with a few of his Chairmen hauling a large wagon that held a disabled securitron. It was during those moments of silence where one couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling.

Emily sighed and changed the topic. “I saw the signs for the Rad Pack’s anniversary performance. Aren’t you going to go?”

“This robot is more important than a show.” Benny said.

Emily wanted to ask what made the securitron so important again, but she didn’t want to risk being exiled from New Vegas. Benny was powerful man. There would be no need for him to bluff about his threats. Emily figured that if he got rid of her, he’d just find another person willing to do the job.

* * *

There was a line of patrons outside of the Aces Theater. They all chatted about the upcoming show that they held tickets for. Two Chairmen stood on both sides of the double doors to the theater. One would ask the patrons how many individuals were in their party and the other Chairmen would do a ticket check before the patrons could enter the theater.

Once inside, they were escorted to a table by another Chairman. As the line dwindled down, the theater grew crowded. Those that didn’t have a table to be seated were offered to be refunded and given chips to play in the casino. Some took the offer, while others declined and were happy to stand against the wall. Jackie’s eyes darted around the room as she took in the bustling environment. “All these people will be cheering for me soon.”

She sat at one of the tables with Santana and one of the Chairmen that was their bodyguard for the night. Jackie and Santana dressed up for the occasion. Santana wore a black floor-length, strapless satin dress. Her shoulders were bare due to the straight neckline and there was a slit starting at her hip that ran down the side of her dress to expose her leg. Santana parted her wig down the middle. It was sleek and she tucked the hair behind her ear for it to stay away from her face. Jackie wore a black, floor-length gown as well. The dress was slightly open at the back and the neckline came up high on her chest. She wore a small cocktail hat that was decorated with a fishnet veil that covered Jackie’s eyes.

The two women were complimented and stared at as they left their table to step onto the stage. Even though she hated the name change, Jackie introduced the duo as The Bombshells. Santana stood silently next to Jackie on stage with a small smile on her face. The smile slowly faded as her gaze fixated onto a woman sitting at a table further away from the stage. The woman was somewhere in her fifties. The wrinkles on her face were accompanied with aged scars that imprinted onto her dark skin. The woman blended in with the crowd, but Santana felt that there was something familiar about her. The woman motioned her hand to rub the nape of her neck and Santana felt a burning sensation where her brand marked the back of her neck.

The applause from the crowd snapped Santana out of her gaze. She quickly got off the stage with Jackie just as the curtains parted for the Rad Pack Revue to step out to face the crowd. The four gentlemen waved at the crowd that screamed for them.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” Santana told the bodyguard once she and Jackie returned to the table.

From the corner of her eye, Santana noticed the woman get up from her table just as she was making her way out of the theater. The bathroom closest to the theater was by the elevators. There was a small flight of stairs that led to the casino floor that was by the elevators. As Santana walked down the steps, she could hear someone else’s footsteps behind her. “Shit…” Santana whispered under her breath. She picked up her pace, but it was hard to do so in the heels she wore.

Santana pushed opened the door to the bathroom. There was a trash can next to the sinks. It was completely full of trash, so people left some of their trash on top of the lid of the trash can. Santana grabbed an empty bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla that sat with the trash on the lid and went into one of the bathroom stalls. She closed the stall door, but didn’t lock it.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened and slow footstep filled the room. From the crack in the stall, Santana could see a figure standing in front of the sink counter. Santana’s chest felt heavy. Her grip tightened around the bottle. Santana pushed open the stall door, causing it to slam against the stall on the left. Santana swung the bottle at the woman’s face when she turned around. The glass shattered on her face from the brute force. The woman screamed and held her hands over her face. She didn’t lower her hands, even after Santana stabbed the jagged glass of broken bottle into her flesh. The woman’s arms grew limp and her hands lowered from her face. “Fucking bitch!” Santana stabbed the glass into the woman’s neck. A gargled, grunt escaped from the woman’s throat when Santana ripped the glass from her neck.

“Sonny, what’s gotten into you!?” Santana felt a hand grip around her stomach. Santana watched as the woman toppled over to the floor as she was being dragged away from the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter escalated fast, especially since Santana's past hasn't been revealed and there isn't much known about her at all, but it'll be revealed slowly but surely.


	4. 13

By nightfall, Santana reached the desolate camp site in the Mesquite Mountains. Some areas of the soil were burned, but banana yucca still managed to grow. One of two tents was still standing even after so many years. Santana pushed aside one of the tent flaps. There was a nothing inside except for an old blood stained mattress and an old metal box with clothes fit for a child stored inside. Besides the mattress, lying in the dirt was a ragged teddy bear, which Santana remembered her mother fondly called, Cub.

Santana kicked off her Bighorner fur boots and set them next to the metal box. She grabbed the bundles of clothes that could’ve easily been seen as old rags that were stolen from the dead that were buried six feet under the Mojave dirt. Dirt coated the soles of Santana’s feet and stuck in between her toes as she stepped outside of tent. In the center of the camp was the remnant of a campfire. Santana threw the pile of clothes in the center of what was left of the campfire. There was a cool breeze, but the unzipped parka she wore enough to keep Santana warm. She sat on her knees in front of the fire, staining her lace nightgown that she wore underneath the parka. They were one the only items of clothing that she left the Tops with. It took Santana weeks to trek out to the Mesquite Mountains. To try and take a suitcase of belongings was unrealistic.

Santana reached into the pocket of her parka for the lighter she brought with her. She sparked a flame and brought it close to one of the pieces of clothing on the ground. After one piece of clothing picked up the flame, the others caught on fire as well. Santana put away her lighter. She tucked a few strands of her wig behind her ear before stretching her hands out to be warmed by the flames. Once she rested her hands onto her thighs they were warm enough to heat up her nightgown and her skin underneath the fabric. A few seconds later, Santana lied her back down on the ground. She stared up at the stars that dotted the night sky and the waning crescent moon that competed with the Lucky 38 as the brightest light source in the Mojave.

_“Thought you could run away, get up!” The sight of the moon was replaced by the angry mug of an older woman. Her dark skin was covered in tattoos that stemmed from her arm and up to her neck. Her hair was shaved down to be completely bald. She gripped her gloved hand around Santana’s arm and pulled her to sit up. In her other hand she held a small crow bar. “You fucked up half of my deal and now I’m out a thousand caps.”_

_Santana’s wrists itched from how tight the rope was that bound her wrists together._

_The woman made her way behind Santana and knelt down to her level. She grasped Santana’s hair and pulled it up to expose her neck. “I don’t need rumors circulating around the Mojave saying that Dutch doesn’t know how to keep her merchandise in line.”_

_The woman brought the crow bar only inches away from Santana’s neck to get her to feel the heat that radiated from it. She tilted the crow bar to be on its edge and pressed it onto the back of Santana’s neck. Santana screamed as her skin sizzled and burned underneath the metal. The crow bar burned Santana’s skin five times. The result was an x followed by three tally marks._

_Santana’s screams were replaced by heavy breaths and she tried to keep herself from crying any more than she already had. She heard the woman’s gruff voice in her ear. “Thirteen. It’s nothing special. It’s only the number of cigarettes I have left. Since I didn’t get to sell you off, I suppose I’ll have to set up an arrangement for a second purchase later.”_

* * *

The murder of Desiree Holland was enough to keep a few tourists away from the Tops. The casino floor wasn’t as populated as it usually was. It didn’t bother Benny much. He knew sooner or later business would pick back up. The same situation happened to the White Gloves when someone made a rumor that they served human meat once at the Gourmand. It slowed traffic to their casino, but people came back regardless. Benny lied in his queen sized bed. The blanket covered the lower half of his body and he moved Emily Ortal’s hand that rested on his bare chest to be able to sit on the side of his bed.

Benny’s movements slowly, but surely, woke Emily up. She rubbed at her eyes. Though her vision was blurry, she could make out Benny’s figure as he reached over to grab his pack of cigarettes and lighter from his nightstand. Emily quickly pushed the blankets off of herself and knelt down to the ground. “Where are my clothes?” She asked repeatedly as she crawled on the carpet, brushing her hand around to look for them.

Benny grabbed Emily’s glasses from his nightstand and held them out in front of her when she crawled near him. “You might want these.” Emily snatched her glasses from Benny and placed them over her eyes. “You left your clothes in the bathroom.”

Emily hurried off into the bathroom while Benny pressed his lips onto a cigarette. Her button up shirt was in the sink bowl and blocked the water in the sink from getting down the drain. The shirt smelled and was heavy from being drenched in water. On the floor in front of the sink were her pants and lab coat. Sitting on the toilet’s lid were her bra and panties. Emily rubbed her hands down her cheeks and groaned. She bent over and grabbed her lab coat to cover her bare body.

“You’re a sleazy bastard, you know that?” Emily stormed out from the bathroom.

Benny pulled the cigarette from in between his lips and blew out a small cloud of smoke. “So I’ve been told.”

“I was drunk. I was in no position to…”

“I didn’t fuck you, if that’s what you’re getting at, baby.” Benny said. “Believe me, you were begging for me to.”

“I don’t believe that.” Emily crossed her arms and shook her head.

“Well, you did.”

“Yet, you’re wearing nothing, save for boxers.” Emily pointed out.

“It’s how I sleep, pussycat.” Benny shrugged his shoulders when Emily rolled her eyes. “You can think I’m lying all you want, baby, but I didn’t do anything. You were drunk and started talking about the securitron to anyone who’d listen. So, I brought you up here and left you in the living room. I went to sleep, but then I guess you spilled some Atomic Cocktail on yourself and took your own clothes off in the bathroom. You woke me up for some hey-hey and I didn’t go for it.”

Emily sighed. “I need to get back to the Fort. I’ll be back later on today to test the securitron.”

“There’s an extra set of clothes in that dresser if you want to wear them. If you don’t want to, I won’t judge you, but everyone on the Strip will.” Benny said.

“Are you trying to use me to get attention so no one will talk about the murder and you can make money again?” Emily walked over to the dresser that was right across from Benny’s bed. She expected to see a tacky suit folded inside of the drawer. Instead, she pulled out a pair of women’s fitted pants and a cropped white top.

“The clothes are… were Santana’s. She’ll be back to get them though.”

“It’s been two weeks. I don’t think she’s coming back.” Emily folded the clothes over her forearm. “Besides you’d really let her back into the Tops. She killed a woman in cold blood. I know it, you know it, and yet, you lied to the people of the Mojave and said you didn’t know.”

* * *

There were three columns projected onto the screen. The column on the left showed a vine of purple grapes, the center column displayed a yellow lemon, and the right column had the number seven. The elder woman slammed her hand against the slot machine’s screen, claiming it had gone cold. Her ears perked up to the chiming instrumental made by the slot machine next to her. She watched as the three columns began to slow down. Seven. _Ping_. Seven. _Ping_.

“Jackpot,” The woman said once the third seven appeared on the screen. She glanced towards Santana got up from her stool at the winning machine. Once Santana walked away, the woman hopped onto the winning machine.

Slots were the most popular game at the Vikki and Vance Casino. The lights enticed the townsfolk in Primm and Goodsprings to the machines and the music that emerged from the slots, gave them adrenaline that the blackjack and roulette tables didn’t. Playing the slots was like doing a chem. It was a quick high to enjoy before returning to a mundane life.

“Now, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone win a jackpot and look as unhappy as a Bighorner calf watchin’ his momma be slaughtered for her hide.” Santana made her way towards an elderly man, known as Johnson Nash, who stood in front of the shot up, pre-war vehicle on display in the center of the casino floor. “Been awhile since you’ve come ‘round, Sonny. I haven’t seen you since in years. You’re the spitting image of your mother. How is she? Was she up there in New Vegas with you?”

“No. I lost contact with her a while ago, before I got to New Vegas.”

“It’s pretty dangerous in the big city. Some weeks ago a lady got stabbed at one of them fancy casinos.” Johnson said. Santana glanced over towards the death car on display. There had to be hundreds of bullet holes that marked both the interior and exterior of the car. “Desiree Holland, that’s what the news said her name was.” Johnson recalled. “She had a nickname too, something like…”

“Dutch.” Santana finished the sentence for Johnson.

“You know, I remember her stopping here in Primm before takin’ the Long 15 to New Vegas. I talked to her. She was saying that her was coming sooner or later. She seemed like a woman who’d seen a lot in her years.” Johnson said. “That’s enough sad talk. What brings you all the way into Primm, Sonny?”

“I was hoping I’d get a job.” Santana said. “I need to do something. I… I can’t be stuck at home right now.”

“Well, I hope you aren’t trying to do an interview in that getup.” Johnson pointed at the lace nightgown Santana wore under her parka. “And if I give you the job that I’m thinking about, you may need a change of clothes. Then again, you managed to travel far enough in that outfit, so I suppose it must be fine for you.”

“What’s the job?”

“There’s a last minute delivery to Goodsprings. It’s a shipment of alcohol for the Prospector’s Saloon. You’re not a courier, but if you do the delivery, there are a hundred caps for you.”

* * *

After Emily left, Benny made his way into the backroom of his suite. He was startled by the everlasting smile on the face monitor of the Securitron in the center of the room, but didn’t visibly show it. The Securitron stretched its arms out and rolled backwards to make space between the two of them. “Hey! Hi there, it’s nice to meet you! You must be Benny!”

“You’re a cheerful cat.” Benny raised his brows.

The Securitron laughed. “That’s silly. I’m actually a PDq-88b Securitron.”

“It wasn’t meant to be taken literally. How long have you be on?” Benny asked.

The Securitron’s screen displayed a standby image and quickly reverted back to the smiling face. “Seventy-two hours, thirty-nine minutes, and sixteen seconds. In that time, I’ve encrypted some of Mr. House’s data files that stored information about you to get to know you better. I don’t have skin, so I wouldn’t know, but gecko hide doesn’t sound like something comfortable to wear.”

“If you can encrypt House’s network that easily, it won’t be hard for you to disable him from the mainframe.”

“I was reprogrammed to be helpful to anyone and everyone, but that is something I can’t do. While I can encrypt House’s data, controlling his mainframe is a bit trickier.” For the next two hours, Benny sat on the edge of his bed. Usually he could be alone with his thoughts, but the Securitron’s cheerful voice would constantly announce trivia about the Families’ past as tribals or Mr. House’s life before the war. “Did you know that Mr. House had a Platinum Chip made before the Great War. According to his transmissions, it was supposed upgrade his defense. What defenses? House’s transmissions don’t say, but this Chip must be very important considering House spent 812,545 caps hiring salvage teams to find the Platinum Chip in the last year alone.”

“Was it ever found?” Benny asked.

“So far the salvage team has pinpointed a location where the Chip may be located, but Mr. House doesn’t have the location in the file. I guess he doesn’t care where the Chip is, as long as they find it.”

“Yes Man, keep tabs on that Platinum Chip. Any new files you find on it, you encrypt it and transfer it onto one of those terminals.” Benny ordered.

“Yes Man? Oh!” The Securitron gasped. “I have a nickname!”


	5. Bingo

_Benny’s hand was wrapped tightly around the combat knife’s handle. The blade was stained with dried blood from the gecko he decapitated in the morning. That gecko’s meat was overcooked over a campfire and settled in the stomachs of all of the Boot Riders that formed a large circle around Benny. Standing inside of the circle with Benny was Bingo. The mountain of a man towered over Benny. His bare chest was imprinted with tally marks he carved into his skin with the combat knife he held. The carvings had no particular meaning. If Bingo wasn’t drawing blood from a rival tribe, he was driving the knife underneath his own tough skin for the hell of it._

_Other tribes used knife fights as a source of entertainment, but for the Boot Riders, it was a tradition. Knife fights were used to settle conflict amongst tribe members. The opponents would fight bare chested, only armed with their own personal knife. Fights were won by inflicting a non-lethal wound to the opponent. Whenever the tribe leader was challenged or has challenged a member in a knife fight, sparing the opponent was never an option. Death was the only outcome._

_The crowd of Boot Riders watched in silence as Bingo slowly paced back and forth. His beady, dark eyes stared at Benny. “Why don’t we leave the old ways? Let’s get on our hands and knees, clench our teeth, and get fucked by those damn robots in Vegas. That sound like fun?”_

_“We’ll actually make a name for ourselves, get some power.” Benny’s voice was fairly low, but sounded louder than it was due to the silence of the other Boot Riders. “We won’t have to sit around poking sticks at dead geckos.”_

_Bingo stopped pacing. “Power is only for those that think ahead and view life realistically, not blinded by fantasy. I respect you, Benny, but I’m willing to kill you to save the rest of the tribe.”_

_Bingo charged towards Benny. He wasn’t a man of speed, but of sheer power. Benny had his knife ready to stab Bingo in his gut. The blade barely dug underneath Bingo’s skin before the leader of the Boot Riders gripped his hand over Benny’s wrist. He tugged Benny closer to him, pushing the blade deeper into Bingo’s gut. Blood gushed from the wound as the blade pushed further into Bingo’s flesh. Bingo let go of Benny’s wrist._

_Benny snatched his knife from Bingo’s gut, splattering some of his blood onto Benny’s bare chest. Bingo smiled and wrapped his hand around Benny’s knife. It cut through the rough palm of his Bingo’s hand, but he still managed to rip it from Benny’s grip. He tossed Benny’s knife aside and used that same hand to choke Benny. Benny struggled to breathe and scratched his dirt stained fingernails on the back of Bingo’s hand, but his efforts were futile. Benny’s feet lifted from the ground and he was thrown to the dirt like a ragdoll._

_“It’s over.” One of the Boot Riders whispered what every single one of them thought. Benny lied flat on his back, eyes closed, coughing uncontrollably. Benny’s eyes shot open when Bingo plunged his knife into the ground besides his head. The man furrowed his brows. He stood over Benny and lowered himself to grip both hands around Benny’s neck once more. If Bingo was going to kill him, it was to be with his own bare hands._

_Bingo only applied pressure on Benny’s neck for a second before his grip loosened. He let out a small grunt and stared into Benny’s eyes. Benny breathed heavily, but still managed to smile. Droplets of blood trickled onto Benny’s face. Blood seeped from the palm of his hand and down Benny’s arm. The blood flowed from Bingo’s neck where Benny lodged his knife. Benny pushed the knife deeper into Bingo’s neck to force the man to topple over into the dirt. The Boot Riders watched in silence as Benny slowly rose up from the ground._

_Benny took a moment to catch his breath before he said, “We’re going to Vegas.”_

* * *

“So this is the kind of service ‘round here in the Tops.” Cachino clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth as he shook his head. “I gotta say, _very_ unprofessional. What kind of business is Benny runnin’?” Cachino leaned on the reception desk at the entrance of the Tops. Big Sal stood beside him, smoking a cigarette. Cachino banged his hand on the reception desk to the annoyance of the Chairmen that stood on the other side of it. “Isn’t Swanky supposed to be over here, getting people’s luggage or some shit?”

Francis, the Tops’s greeter gestured his hand towards the slot machines. “We told you that you could go gamble since the boss isn’t ready to see you.”

“Now why would I do that? I know you wise-guys rig the machines. I’d have better luck gettin’ clean fucking water in the Capital Wasteland than win the jackpot on your slots. ‘Bout fucking time.” Cachino muttered when he noticed Benny walking towards the reception desk. As usual, Benny was accompanied by Swank and only two of his bodyguards.

“Use the ashtray.” Benny said when he noticed that Big Sal was about to toss his cigarette to the carpet.

“Don’t act like your floors are spotless Benny. I heard there’s blood stains in the tiles now.” Cachino laughed.

“I’d rather have blood stains, than cum and rats all over my casino.” Benny quipped back.

“Rats get shot on sight in our casino.” Cachino said as he and Big Sal followed Benny towards the elevator lobby. “As for the cum, I can’t help it if the whores don’t swallow.”

Of the eight elevators in the lobby, there was only one that operated. All of the men were cramped inside the steel box that brought them up to the twelfth floor. Benny’s office was directly down the corridor. His two bodyguards stood watch outside of the double doors, while the rest of the men entered the spacious office.

There was a large desk in the center of the room. In front of it were two somewhat comfortable chairs that for Cachino and Big Sal to sit. Behind the desk was a black chair that Benny sat in and Swank stood directly at his side. The walls of the office were decorated with mounted gecko heads. On the wall directly behind Benny were a mounted Bighorner head and a golden gecko skin hung below it.

“I heard it was Sonny that whacked that lady, right? That bitch always had a screw loose. That didn’t stop me from…” Cachino winked and clicked his tongue twice. “The crazy bitches are better in the sack.”

“Sal, next time come alone.” Benny leaned back in his chair and the two Omertas sat in the ones across from Benny’s desk. “The Omertas called this meeting. Get to the point or see your way out of my casino.”

Big Sal leaned back in his seat and crossed one leg over the other. “Benny-boy, five of your men were hit outside of Vegas and two of our men were hit as well. Turns out it was a Fiend that whacked them. It’ll be real hard to retaliate alone, but with the Chairmen’s help…”

“As much as I would want to go after the Fiends for killing my men, they aren’t the Chairmen’s problem to deal with; it’s the NCR’s.” Benny shrugged his shoulders. “Is that why you came here, to tell me that?”

“The Omertas aren’t your enemy, Benny. We want you to know that there’s no reason to go to war with us.” Big Sal said.

“That doesn’t explain Diana Warner’s death at the El Rey Motel.”

“Again with this bullshit… we didn’t kill the junkie.” Big Sal slapped his hand down on his thigh.

“I was told that Troike, who was a regular at your casino, was the one who was always with Diana in that motel.”

“So you think because he spent some caps in our hotel, it ties us to her death. Maybe he killed the girl and ran out of town, ever think of that? We haven’t seen Troike in Gomorrah since that girl was found dead. The Omertas don’t got any blood on our hands, Benny-boy.” Big Sal stared into Benny’s eyes. “Right now, you need the Families more than ever. People are talking about the Tops and believe me, they ain’t sayin’ good things. Let’s cut a deal.”

“Shoot.”

Big Sal slightly nodded his head. “Alright, the Families will throw three day parties on the Strip. Tonight is day one. It’ll be in Gomorrah. Day two will be in the Ultra-Luxe. I already worked out a deal with Margie. Day three will be in the Tops.”

“So the Tops gets good promo for when we reopen and the Omertas get what?” Benny asked.

“Forty percent of your profit of the first week of your grand reopening.” Big Sal said.

Swank shook his head. “No deal.” He glanced down at Benny when he didn’t hear him answer. “You’re not seriously considering this, are you?”

“I need some time to think it over.” Benny said.

Big Sal patted down his suit as he lifted up from the chair. “Think fast, Benny. Stop by the cum and rat casino when you make your decision.”

* * *

_Standing near the entrance of Gomorrah’s courtyard was Cachino and Benny. Benny held his diminished cigarette between his lips, in order to grab a fresh new stick from his pack of Thin Mans he kept in his pocket. Benny’s cigarette brand were rare, no other person in the Mojave smoked them. He brought the cigarette up to the flickering ember of what was left of the cigarette he held in his mouth. It took a good minute, but the new cigarette lit up. Benny spit out the old cigarette and stomped it underneath his wingtip shoe._

_Benny glanced around the jungle themed courtyard. There was a rectangular pool in the courtyard, but no one was inside of it. Set up around the pool’s perimeter were several tents, with the exterior decorated to resemble huts. There were huts set up on the second floor that overlooked the courtyard as well. “Straw huts, fire pits, and faux greenery_ , t _he jungle theme is pretty tacky, don’t you think?” Benny smirked when he noticed Cachino sneer at his question._

_“What the fuck did you come here for again, Benny?”_

_“House sent one of his securitrons to tell me to inspect your casino to see why you weren’t making as much profit as the Chairmen and White Gloves. I’m guessing most of the money the securitrons pick up comes from them.” Benny looked at the scantily clad prostitutes that sensually danced outside of their tents for potential customers. “Are they clean?”_

_“Clean as a fucking whistle and they’ll blow yours for the right amount of caps.” Cachino patted Benny’s back. “Gomorrah has the best broads in the whole goddamn Mojave.”_

_“No one says that.” Benny stuffed his hands in the pockets of his slacks. He was led further into the courtyard by Cachino. They passed male and female prostitutes that danced and called out for their attention, but Cachino stopped them when they were in front of one of the huts. Inside was woman lying down on the pillows laid out in on the ground in her tent._

_Cachino furrowed his brows and spat on the ground near the woman. “You’re not gonna fucking acknowledge us.”_

_The woman lifted her hand in the air and slightly waved it before bringing it back down. “Hi, Chino.”_

_Cachino lifted his index finger in front of Benny. “Give me a second, will you.” He entered the hut and pulled down the flaps to cover the entrance. Immediately Benny could hear Cachino and woman cursing back and forth at each other. The woman screamed and Cachino grunted. It went on for less than a minute before it grew quiet. Cachino pushed open the flap and yelled, “Fucking bitch,” as he stepped out of the hut. “I need a fucking cigarette.”_

_Benny watched as Cachino walked off towards a small lounge area in the courtyard. He turned his attention back to the hut. Benny pushed open the flap only to have a pillow thrown at his face. “I’m not Cachino, babydoll.”_

_Benny looked down at the woman. Cachino left a few scratches on her face, but nothing that needed medical attention. “I don’t care who you are.” The woman lifted up from the floor. Benny took a step back from the entrance of the hut to allow her room to leave._

* * *

Santana’s throat was dry. She was tempted to take one of bottles of whiskey that was stowed in the duffle bag she carried, but refrained from doing so when she realized that she reached Goodsprings. It was a small town with a few run down homes. There was a field where a few residents sweated under the sun planting crops and next to that was a pen to house the young Bighorners. One of the first buildings that Santana came across was the one she was to report to, the Prospector Saloon. Broken pre-war motorcycles lined up right next to the saloon’s steps to the porch. On the porch was an elderly man in a rocking chair, eating a handful of pinyon nuts. He tipped his hat to Santana as she walked up the steps.

The screen door to the Prospector Saloon creaked open, but quickly slammed back shut once Santana let go of it. There weren’t many residents inside of the saloon. Two individuals played billiards and another resident sat at a table to read an old pre-war programming magazine. The only person Santana heard inside of the saloon was Mr. New Vegas’s smooth voice announce the next song through the speakers of the radio behind the bar. Also behind the bar was a woman that wiped down the bar with a rag, even though it wasn’t dirty. The woman looked up to see Santana, or more specifically, Santana’s outfit.

“Lingerie and a coat, that’s not the type of clothes we wear in Goodsprings.” She folded the rag. “Must be the newest fashion trend on the Strip. I’ve never seen your face around these parts, so I’m going to guess that you’re the courier with my shipment of whiskey.”

“I’m not a courier, I needed the caps.” Santana placed the duffle bag on the bar.

The box of the cash register behind the bar slid open. The woman reached inside and grabbed a handful of caps. Scarlet caps from Sunset Sarsapilla and red caps from Nuka-Cola bottles were scattered over the bar counter. “How much do I owe you?”

Santana reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the invoice for the shipment. She stared down at the slip of paper, brows furrowed. “Um…” Santana sat the paper on the counter. “Here, read it for yourself.”

“You can’t?” The woman let out a small chuckle. When Santana didn’t respond, the woman’s smile faded. “You seriously can’t read it.”

“Not knowing how to read or write runs in the family.” Santana said.

“No offense, but I’m happy to not be related to you.” The woman smiled and Santana smiled back. “How’d you know you were in Goodsprings?”

“Johnson said there’d be a Bighorner pen.”

“The invoice says a hundred caps. I’ll throw in an extra fifty for you to pay someone to give you an education.” The woman pushed the caps forward for Santana to stow in a small sack that Johnson Nash had given her. “Then maybe becoming a courier will be a little easier for you.”

“I didn’t plan on being one.”

The woman shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a good profession. There’s not too much danger and the pay is pretty good. There are worse jobs out there.”

* * *

_Every Chairmen, White Glove, and Omerta guard had the safety off of their guns. The meetings with the Families were usually hostile. It wasn’t easy to get rid of tribal attitudes and tradition within two years. Benny would ridicule his right-hand, Swank, for wearing a gecko skin tie, but even Benny couldn’t get rid of the past. He couldn’t help but keep his old necklace, a string adorned with sharp gecko teeth, in the handkerchief pocket of his suit._

_Benny patted down his suit jacket before he took a seat at the long dining table. It was the only table to sit at in Gomorrah’s, otherwise, unfurnished restaurant. The restaurant was the last area of the hotel to be renovated. There was a kitchen, but nowhere for guests to eat, wallpaper, furniture, or a set menu for the eatery. Though it was the Omertas restaurant, Nero didn’t sit at the head of the table. The chair was moved aside to leave the space open for a disabled securitron. Behind the securitron were a few securitron guards. On the left of the securitron sat Benny and beside him was Swank. Mortimer and Marjorie followed Swank. On the right of the securitron sat Nero. Next to him were Big Sal and Cachino. The Families’ guards were against the walls of the unfurnished restaurant, waiting for the orders to pull the trigger on their rivals._

_The leaders of the Families eyed each other in silence. They knew any minute that House would activate the securitron and be present at the meeting. The last thing they wanted was to anger the de facto leader of New Vegas again. That was until Mortimer broke the silence in the room. “Are you planning to serve food in this restaurant, or drug and pimp out anyone that walks in?”_

_Nero and Big Sal’s eyes shifted towards Mortimer, but they didn’t say anything. Cachino let out a forced hearty laugh. “Shut your fucking mouth, Morty. I can smell the human meat on your breath from over here.”_

_Marjorie pointed her index finger sternly at Cachino. “Don’t you dare accuse the White Glove Society of cannibalism!”_

_Cachino smirked. “I didn’t accuse you of nothing.” He shifted his focus from Marjorie to Benny. “I know you got something to say, gecko boy.”_

_“Last time we went at it, fink, I wiped you across the floor.” Benny said. “You really want to go for round two?”_

_Cachino kept the smirk on his face and slammed his hands on the dining table. “Get up, motherfucker!”_

_“I see that you all still have a long ways to go until I don’t have to hold your hands like children during these meetings.” The Families settled down and turned their attention towards the activated securitron at the head of the table. The large square screen of the robot displayed a tinted green, animated image of a middle-aged Mr. House. “All is well within the casinos, I’m sure. Benny, how are you handling the Tops?”_

_Cachino huffed under his breath. He, like the others, knew that Benny was favored by Mr. House. While Benny answered to House, the rest of the Families picked up a menu that sat in front of each them at the dining table. There wasn’t much to choose from on the menu. There were no appetizers or desserts, only entrees. The Families could only choose from Bighorner, Brahmin, or gecko steak._

_“A lackluster menu, if I must say.” Mortimer said._

_“If I must say…” Big Sal raised his gravelly voice to sound as posh as he could. “Get the fuck out of here with all that polite bullshit.”_

_“House, we didn’t come here to have dinner. We’re here for business. So, let’s talk.” Benny laced his hands together._

_“NCR soldiers are celebrating their victory over the Legion. It wouldn’t surprise me if the NCR attempted to take Vegas by force. That is something we cannot allow to happen.” House said._

_“What about the Treaty of New Vegas?” Marjorie asked. “They can’t go against it.”_

_Big Sal shook his head. “There ain’t nothing in the Treaty that says NCR can’t come after us if they wanted to.”_

_House continued. “The NCR has no jurisdiction within New Vegas, but if they believe that they’ve defeated the Legion, their inflated sense of power will ultimately drive them to try and take control of New Vegas. We need to bide our time until we have enough power to show the NCR leaders that we are not one to start a war with.”_

_“The NCR are dogs. New Vegas is a treat. Their mouths are watering to take this city. We gotta find a toy to wave in their face and throw across the Mojave to keep them occupied.” Benny said._

_Nero leaned back in his chair. “The NCR are stretched thin. Don’t know why they bother with half the things they do.”_

_“Benny.” House called for his attention. “I trust that you will see to this issue with the NCR.”_

_“House, baby, there’s two other leaders at this table that can take on the job.”_

_House ignored Benny. “Once you achieve any results, relay the information to my securitron outside of the Lucky 38.”_

_The meeting was brief. The White Gloves quickly returned to their casino, disgusted that they even had to set foot in Gomorrah. To leave the casino, they had to walk past the small strip club. For Gomorrah standards it was classy. The women and men who performed in this room at least had something to cover themselves, while in the Brimstone, skin flashed in the dim lighting. Benny walked with his hands stuffed in his pockets, not truly paying any mind to any of the strippers until a familiar face caught his eye._

_It was the woman from the courtyard. Her dark hair was parted down the middle, falling down to her back. Her shapely figure brushed closely against her colleagues as the two of them danced on stage. The two of them dressed in similar revealing outfits, which showed more than enough, but covered what needed to be. Benny stopped walking and his eyes lingered on her. His eyebrows rose when he noticed her gesture her hand for him to approach her._

_“Boss, where are you…”_

_“Give me a second.” Benny said to Swank. He weaved his way through the crowd of gamblers and tourists to get closer to the stage. The woman made her way off the stage. Benny sat in one of the few vacant chairs and she sat on his lap._

_“Are you following me?” Her nails slowly stroked against his cheek. Up close, Benny could see just how beautiful she was. He was lost in her light brown eyes and felt his spine tingle when her plump red lips lightly brushed against his ear. She whispered, “You’re a strange man.”_

_Benny smirked. He kept his voice low. “I’ve never been this way around a dame before, baby. It’s a new experience, pussycat.”_

_She brought herself back face to face with Benny. “Eating Cazador meat is an experience. This is lust. How can you fall for someone you don’t know?”_

_“Then let me get to know you, baby. We didn’t get a proper introduction last time.” Benny said. “I’m Benny, leader of the Chairmen. I run the Tops.”_

_“For a guy who “runs the Tops”, you’re in Gomorrah a lot.”_

_“Business meeting.” Benny summed it up._

_“Hmm… well, I’m Santana.”_

_“You don’t look like a Santana.” Benny said._

_Santana squint her eyes. “You look like a wild gecko.”_

_Benny smiled. “Fitting.”_


	6. Born to Be Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is named after the song by The Ronettes. 
> 
> There's smut in this chapter.

The banana yucca had grown in nicely. The ripe plant was ready for harvest. Santana carried one of the metal crates from inside one of the tents and outside to the small garden. The afternoon sun beamed down on the campsite. Santana wore a dress she sewed together itself. It used to fit fairly loose, but as her pregnant belly grew and she gained extra weight, the dress grew tighter. She wasn’t surprised when she realized that she was pregnant. Jimmy Hats condoms weren’t commonly sold in the Mojave, so the chances of pregnancy or venereal diseases were pretty high. Santana figured that she was already at least nine months along.

The campsite was fairly quiet, save for the occasional sound of crows cawing as they flew by. Because of that, it was easy for Santana to hear the sound of someone kicking dirt as they trekked up the mountain. A few minutes later the khaki NCR uniform was in clear view. The lanky individual wore an armored breastplate that donned the NCR insignia and black fingerless gloves that matched the black face wrap that covered everything but his brown eyes. His dark brown, wavy hair was shaved down into a crew cut. The soldier’s eyes grew when he noticed Santana. “Sani,” The soldier’s voice was muffled by the face wrap.

He pulled down the face wrap and Santana quickly recognized her younger brother’s gummy smile. Santana sat the metal crate next to the banana yucca plant. “Johnny, what are you doing here?”

“I’m stationed at the Mojave Outpost, thought I’d visit home. I didn’t think you guys were still living here.” Johnny said as he made his way closer to Santana. He held his arms out and brought his older sister into a hug. “Where are Janae and mom?”

“They left a while ago.”

“Oh… they’ll probably be back when I’m already back at the outpost.” Johnny guessed.

“Probably, I’ll tell them you came by.” Santana lied. It was something she did often to her younger siblings. Johnny had left to join the NCR four years ago when the NCR pushed further into the Mojave, leaving the three women at the campsite. He wasn’t around when the red flag with the symbol of a golden bull was waved around the campsite.

Johnny reached into a leather pouch stitched to the uniform’s belt. He grabbed a handful of pinyon nuts and tossed them into his mouth. He glanced down at Santana’s protruding belly. “Who’s the guy I have to beat up?” He said in between crunching on his snack.

“A bigshot from Vegas.” Santana said.

“I’ll see him soon, then. I’m getting stationed there in a few weeks.”

“Stay in Vault 21.” Santana warned him. “I don’t want you going to the other casinos.”

“You don’t have to hold my hand anymore, Sani. I’m a soldier, I’m there for business.” Johnny said.

“Keep that mindset and you won’t get into trouble.”

“What kind of trouble did you get into on the Strip?” Johnny asked.

“I’ve seen what happens to other people. I left before anything happened to me.” Santana lied. “I just want you to be careful when you’re out there.”

“I will, I will. Don’t worry so much, Sani.” The radio on Johnny’s belt made a buzzing sound. He sighed and said, “I gotta get back to the Outpost. It’s time for the headcount.”

“You better be careful out there, Johnny.” Santana hugged her younger brother.

“I will, mom.” Johnny rolled his eyes then smiled.

* * *

_Dutch had business in New Vegas that she needed to tend to. She had a shipment of jet for the Omertas and had no choice but to bring Santana with her. The woman didn’t want Santana to draw attention from the NCR soldiers, so she buttoned her up in a large coat that reached her ankles to cover her cut and bruised body. She was given oversized boots to cover her, already blistered, feet. Dutch kept Santana’s wrists bound until they reached New Vegas._

_From there they entered Gomorrah and were escorted to a lounge in the Brimstone level of the hotel. Santana was told to sit down on one of the red ottomans and was watched over by two armed Omertas thugs behind her. Not far away was Dutch, who sat on a chair across from two men, Big Sal and Cachino._

_“Dutch, you should be sleeping with the mirelurks.” Big Sal laced his hands together. “The last shipment of jet we got from you was less than what we paid for. You skimmed out on us and that ain’t something we can let slide.”_

_“That’s why I brought this shipment. It’s double the product for the price of one shipment.” Dutch said._

_Cachino laughed. “You’re real funny, bitch. I’m sure Torini would love havin’ you perform at the Aces Theater.”_

_“If you think we’re paying for chems that are owed to us and if you think the Omertas will let a scumbag like you live after screwing with our business, you’re crazy.” Big Sal said._

_“You’d take a life over a few missing chems.”_

_Cachino smiled. “I killed a guy for putting one too many ice cubes in my drink.”_

_“Okay, let’s have a new deal. You see that girl back there? She was supposed to go to the Legion, but the exchange didn’t go through.” Dutch asked. Cachino and Big Sal looked at Santana. “Let me live and you take her and the jet”_

_“What if we kill you and take her and jet anyways?” Cachino proposed._

_Big Sal raised his hand in front of Cachino as a gesture for him not to say anything else. “We’ll take the girl and the chems, but we want four more shipments of jet, on the house.”_

* * *

Yes Man’s screen was blacked out, but the securitron continued to whir and buzz. The Securitron wasn’t loud enough for the rest of the Tops to hear, but it was loud enough to muffle Emily Ortal’s moans. She sat on top of the workbench and her legs were spread open. Standing in between her legs was Benny. She looked into his eyes as he stopped massaging and pressed his fingers into her. “Is this how you treat all women? Finger them in your workshop.”

“Consider yourself the first, baby.” Emily cringed at Benny’s response. “You said the robot would be back online by now.”

“I can only estimate time. The system was overloaded.” Emily bit her lip when Benny pulled his fingers out to rub her clit. “What were you doing with the Securitron while I was gone?”

“What I do with it is none of your business, baby.” Benny said. “All you need to know is that you’re getting your part of the deal.”

In exchange for her Securitron research and repair services, Emily would be able to use the Securitron to get the data from Mr. House that she wanted. Her eyes were heavy from sleep deprivation. She claimed that if she didn’t have her atomic cocktails she wouldn’t be able to get any work done. She blamed that same drink of choice for allowing Benny to unbuckle his slacks and push his length inside of her.

Emily wrapped her legs around Benny. She gripped her hands on the metal workbench to keep herself steady as the bench rocked with Benny’s rhythm. “I should be getting more than House’s data.” Emily said in between breaths.

Benny raised an eyebrow. “What are you getting at, baby?”

“House’s data isn’t enough…” Emily moaned as Benny picked up his speed. “...I… I want you to compensate the Followers of the Apocalypse.”

“We can’t always get what we want.”

“It’s not…” Benny plowed himself deeper into Emily’s wetness. She leaned back until she lied on her back.

“Fair.” Benny finished Emily’s sentence. He hadn’t even explored her for long and he already felt himself giving out. Benny pulled his cock out and stroked himself. He felt a tingle run down his spine and his body shudder. Benny let out a grunt as he released himself. Emily lifted upright to see the leader of the Chairmen holding his own softening length.

“Yes, it isn’t fair.” Emily repeated.

“That’s funny, pussycat, really funny.” Benny nodded his head. He pulled up his slacks and buckled them. “You do remember where you are, don’t you?”

“The Tops.” Emily answered as she got off from the workbench. She was surprised at how fast Benny came, but decided not to comment on it. She grabbed her panties from the floor and put them on before putting on her pants. She grabbed her button up shirt to wear over the bra she had never taken off.

“Vegas.” Benny corrected her. “And when has anything ever been fair in Vegas.”

The sound of the Securitron making a loud beeping noise caught the pair’s attention. They both went over to the Securitron to see that the screen displayed a black and white standby image. A few seconds later it was replaced by the familiar joyful cartoon image that Benny called Yes Man.

“Gee, I was out of commission for a while there.” The Securitron rolled back and forth when it detected Benny and Emily. “It’s so good to see you two again! Benny! I have some good news for you about the Platinum Chip.”

“Not now, Yes Man.” Benny’s smoothed back his hair.

“What’s this about a Platinum Chip?” Emily asked.

“Well, it’s very…”

“Unimportant.” Benny cut off Yes Man. “I hired Michael Angelo to design from platinum poker chips. It’s for promotion of the Tops.”

Emily pushed her glasses closer to her eyes. She couldn’t read Benny’s expressions well, but she knew that he was lying. He was too forthcoming with information about this, yet when Emily simply asked what his last name was once, he refused to answer.

“Everything should be all synced up now.” Emily said.

“Oh yes!” Yes Man assured Emily. “Mr. House managed to boot me from his network and tried to fry this Securitron bot.”

“Luckily, I was able to back up your matrix before House could wipe it from all of the Securitrons on the Strip.” Emily said. “Now you can access his databanks.”

“Not so fast, baby. Why don’t we let the robot rest for a bit?” Benny suggested.

Emily sighed. “Fine, I’ll make a trip to the Fort and I’ll be back to get the databank information.”

Benny waited for Emily to leave the Tops to inform Swank to not let her back into the casino. Her work was done and Emily was no longer needed. He stood alone in the workshop with the Securitron. “Next time you blab your mouth, I’ll tear your wires out myself, got it.”

“Is this what they call a bluff?”

“Something like that.” Benny admitted. “What was that information you were talking about?”

“Mr. House recorded that the Platinum Chip was found two days ago. It’s being shipped from Sunnyvale, California to the Mojave Express in Primm. With most caravans out of the area, the ETA is a little over one month.” Yes Man explained.

“That gives me time to plan.” Benny said.

* * *

_The Mojave sun beat down upon the courtyard, but the pool water kept Santana cool. She swam in the water alone, her bare chest exposed due to not wanting to get her only top drenched. She swam underwater and her eyesight blurred when she rose back up for air._

_“Having fun, doll face?”_

_Santana rubbed her wet fist at her eyes until she could get a clear view of Benny. He stood poolside in his checkered suit in wingtip shoes. Santana swam over to where he stood. She slicked her wet hair back and looked up to him. “Do the Omertas know you’re here?”_

_“Honey baby,” He dragged out the words. “Is it a crime to visit the other casinos?”_

_Santana rested her arms over the poolside, nearly wetting Benny’s shoes. “People don’t come to the courtyard to gamble.”_

_“Of course not, they go to the Tops, the best casino in the Mojave.” Benny boasted._

_“Then why aren’t you there?” Santana asked._

_“Maybe I want to be in this rat-infested casino, baby, because you’re here.”_

_“Or you came for information.” Santana guessed._

_“That’s also a possibility.” Benny said._

_“Why don’t you ask the receptionist?”_

_Santana swam towards the pool stairs and made her way out of the small body of water. Her wet skin glistened under the sunlight. She grabbed her towel and flipped her hair out of the way to drape it across her shoulders. There wasn’t anyone in the courtyard besides a few other prostitutes that slept through the day in their tents to be ready for their nightshift in the Brimstone. She lightly grabbed Benny’s hand and led him into her tent._

_“Your suit is tacky.” Santana said._

_“Baby, I’m not taking fashion advice from someone that’s not even wearing a shirt.” Benny sat on one of pillows laid out on the ground and Santana sat across from him._

_“The checkered suit stands out to much. Imagine if there was a bounty on your head, it’d be easy to find you.” Santana said. “There’s not much information to tell you, Benny.”_

_“Those finks always have something going on, baby.” Benny said._

_“The only thing Cachino talks about is how much he hates you.” Santana inched closer to Benny and kissed him. “He’s probably jealous of your tacky suit._

_He pressed his lips harder onto hers and she straddled him. Benny’s kisses were always rough, like he didn’t have any time to waste. Underneath her, she could feel Benny growing in his pants. Benny spread his legs and Santana knelt in between them. She unbuckled his pants and pulled them down. Santana’s hands were soft around his hardening length, but he warned her not to scratch him when her nails would brush against his skin as well. She purposefully ran her nail down him. “Baby, I…” Benny’s words trailed off. Santana licked up from his shift and kissed the tip of his member. Benny was sensitive to the slightest touch. “You’re being a tease, baby.”_

_Santana wrapped her lips around the tip. She started off slowly, until she realized how far she could go. She could hear Benny’s short grunts as she sucked him off. She felt him grow harder. His length was coated with her saliva and sprung out on its own._

_Santana crawled forward and straddled Benny. “Are you ever going to tell me what that tattoo on your hand and that thirteen tattoo means, baby?” Benny cocked his head sideways and tapped two fingers on the nape of his neck, the exact placement of Santana’s branding._

_Santana trailed her finger down the scar on Benny’s chest that extended from the center of his chest, down to the left side of his ribs. “Where’d the scar come from?”_

_“Tribal days,” Benny rubbed his hand around down Santana’s arm and lightly gripped her wrist. He brought her hand back to the center of his chest where the scar began. “A Jackal drugged on psycho, armed with a serrated combat knife. The fink tore the blade down my chest. I thought I was a goner, baby. Ain’t that an embarrassing way to go out? Your turn, baby.”_

_“Thirteen doesn’t mean anything.” Santana said._

_Santana slightly picked herself up. She held Benny’s cock with one hand and teased the tip of it on her entrance. She brought herself down. His lubricated length easily slid into her wet pussy. She gasped as she his length deep inside of her. Benny cursed. He wanted to be on top of her, but from this position, he could enjoy the view._

_He watched her glide down his cock. The rhythm of her riding him was accompanied with the wet sound of their friction. Benny licked his lips at the sight of her folds. He reached his hand out. With his member already inside of her, there wasn’t enough room for his fingers to play with her clit for long. He pulled his index finger out from her. The tip was wet with Santana’s juices. Benny licked his finger and looked up to see her breasts bounce as she bobbed up and down on him. Benny held onto her thighs to help Santana pick up her speed. She held one hand around his wrist and pushed her hair back with the other._

_Santana panted and moaned. She let go of Benny’s hand. She stroked her hands across his chest and leaned forward to catch her breath. “You’re not giving up now, are you, baby?” Benny’s voice was shaky. He massaged his hand up and thighs to caress her butt._

_Santana bit her lip. She could feel Benny tensing up inside of her. His fingers dug into her skin and he was the one sliding her down his member. “Fuck…” Benny cursed and a few grunted pants followed. Santana held her hands over his. He thrust into her once more and let out a small curse behind grit teeth. Benny threw his head back. He could feel his own warm cum that filled Santana, drip onto his skin. Her body trembled, but she was able to lift herself up to let Benny’s flaccid length fall out of her core._

_Benny could feel Santana’s nails on his jaw. She slightly lifted his head and kissed him on his lips. “The tattoo on my hand is tribal.”_

_“What tribe were you from” Benny asked._

_Santana shrugged her shoulders. “My mom grew up in the tribe, not me or my siblings. She gave the tattoos though to carry the tradition.”_

_“And the thirteen?”_

_“Like, I said it doesn’t mean anything, just the number of cigarettes Dutch had left.”_

* * *

The smell of Ruby’s casserole hit Santana as soon as she opened the door to the Mojave Express headquarters. Johnson Nash sat the fresh bowl of casserole on the front desk when Santana walked in. “Not even having a baby would stop you from making some caps.” Johnson pulled out a small logbook that he wrote every delivery request in.

Santana gently rubbed her hands over her large stomach. She was perfectly round as if she wore a beach ball underneath her dress. She felt a few cramps on her journey into Primm, but tried her best to ignore the small bursts of pain. “I need as much caps as I can get before this baby gets here.”

“Do you know what you’re having?” Johnson asked as he scanned his eyes across every line on the page.

“No clue.” Santana said.

“I hope it’s a girl. She’ll be beautiful and hard-working just like her mother.” Johnson tapped his index finger on the page. He grabbed a pen that sat on the counter and wrote on the paper. “There’s three guns going to the Prospector Den. It isn’t too…” Johnson paused when he noticed Santana ball her fist and tightly close her eyes. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Santana took a deep breath.

Johnson continued, “It isn’t far from Primm and the pay is pretty good.”

The shipment was light, so Johnson pulled the three pistols from the crate they were stored in and stowed them away in a backpack. By the time Santana walked out of the Mojave Express, the afternoon sun had drifted down to the horizon line. It gave sky a peachy tone.

The Prospector Den was just southeast of Primm. It only took Santana around thirty minutes to reach the metal door to the entrance of the building. Constructed within a cave, it was the perfect place for Prospector’s to rest in between their travels. Santana wrapped her hand around the metal doorknob. She felt a sting of pain rush through her body, making her moan in pain.

Santana took a moment to compose herself. She pulled open the door and let it slam behind her when she entered the cave. She walked down the rocky slope to enter a small area with a bench near the center of the room and lightbulbs were strung across the rocky ceiling. To the left was the Prospector Den building constructed within the cave. She opened the door to the Den and stood in a long hallway. She heard the faint sound of music coming from one of the room directly to her right. Before she could enter it to see if anyone was inside, she heard footsteps from down the hall.

The hallway was dimly lit, but Santana could see a young woman at the end of the hall. She dressed in a Brahmin skin, long-sleeved dress and her spiky Mohawk looked as sharp as a knife. The woman screamed and extended her arm out. The blast of gunfire lit up in the dark. The bullet flew past Santana and lodged into the door behind her. Santana quickly took shelter in the room to her right. She slammed the door shut and locked it.

“Jackals! We got company!” Santana could hear the woman yelling from outside of the room.

“Fuck...” Santana pulled off the backpack and hid behind one of the beds in the room. She unzipped the bag halfway before she felt another cramp. She clenched her hand over her stomach and Santana unzipped the backpack. She grabbed one of the pistols inside. She checked the ammunition. It was fully loaded. She clicked off the safety to the gun and groaned in pain as she turned around to aim her gun at the door. On the other side, she could hear one of the Jackal members kicking at the door. Santana pulled her finger on the trigger. The bullet blew out from her pistol and pierced through the door. The Jackal member and Santana yelled out in pain for different reasons. The knob to the room was shot off and the second Jackal kicked the door in. Santana could see the Jackal she shot, slumped against the wall in the hallway.

“Die! Die! Die!” The second Jackal member snarled. She threw their pistol to the ground and charged towards Santana with a combat knife. She jumped on top of the bed and Santana took her shot. The bullet blasted into the Jackal’s head. Brain matter and blood splattered into the air and fell to the floor just as the Jackal did.

Santana lifted up from the floor. She felt a wet substance drip down the inside of her thigh. She climbed on top of the bed. Her body was hot and she could feel the sweat secreting on her forehead. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling down her cheeks when another surge of pain ran through her back. There was little time for Santana to adjust, as the pain grew worse in a short span of time.

The sound of Frank Sinatra’s voice through the radio began to irritate Santana as she tried to deal with the pain. She lied in a building built in a cave with fresh corpses that decorated the floors. It wasn’t exactly where she thought she’d be giving birth, but there was nothing Santana could do about it. She pulled off her shoes, pulled off the top of her dress and lifted it to be up to her thighs and pulled off her panties. She held her hand over her mouth when she felt the large mass in between her legs. She wanted to push to stop the excruciating pain, but she was afraid to.

“Okay… okay… on three. One… two…” Santana whimpered. She squeezed as much as she could. Her legs felt weak and she screamed from the burning sensation inside of her. Santana reached her hand down and could feel the top of the newborn’s head crowning. She cursed and screamed as the baby’s head pushed through her opening. Her hand felt the baby’s head, it was out. She was exhausted, but tried her best to push as hard as she could. Santana squeezed her eyes shut and yelled. She could feel the baby slip out from her.

She reached her arms down to grab the newborn. Their skin was slicked with blood and a milky substance. Santana pushed a few more times and gasped when the baby was free from her. The baby screamed at the top of their small lungs. Santana tried to catch her breath and brought the newborn to her chest. The substance that coated him smeared onto Santana.

“Hi…” It was all Santana could think to whisper to her newborn son.


	7. Got Your Bible, Got Your Gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is named after a line in Lana Del Rey's song, "Cruel World".

His name was Noa. It wasn’t the first name that Santana thought of for her son, but it was the only one that grew on her the fastest. The baby had dark brown hair that slightly curled at the ends. His skin was just a shade lighter than his mother’s brown complexion.

The baby lied on top of the queen sized bed inside of the suite Santana rented at the Vikki and Vance casino. The small suite was garishly decorated. The room was furnished with a queen sized bed, a wooden chair that Santana sat in, and a desk that she laid her head on. She didn’t want to spend a lot of caps for a temporary living arrangement.

Noa let out a small grunt. He wriggled his body and began to cry. Santana sighed and pushed back the chair she sat in. She tucked her hair behind her ears. Her hair only reached just below her ears. During her pregnancy she let it grow out when her wig was too tangled to fix. Noa grew quiet when his large brown eyes met with his mother’s. He lifted his small arms and yawned. Santana picked the baby up and sat on the bed. She pulled down her shirt to expose her breast. She brought Noa close to her until her nipple was just above his upper lip and his chin was against her breast. Noa opened his mouth wide and latched onto Santana. She leaned back onto the headboard to get into a more comfortable position for the baby.

Noa fixated his gaze on his mother. “You really love me, don’t you? Or you’re just using me for food, huh?” Santana smiled and gently stroked her finger through a few of Noa’s curls. Noa let go of Santana and stretched his arms up towards her.

She swaddled the baby in a small blanket that Ruby Nash had given her and carried the baby outside of the suite with her. She walked down the corridor to the elevator. She rocked Noa in her arms as she waited for the elevator doors to slide open. Once inside she pressed the button to get to the casino floor on the first level.

The casino seemed to be bustling with everyone that lived in Primm. Maybe it was because gambling was one of the few pass times the people in this town had. It could have also been because Ruby was serving her famous radscorpion venom casserole. The name didn’t do the delicious meal justice.

Santana made her way over to the slots where she saw Johnson Nash playing on one of the machines. She sat on a vacant stool next to his. “I have a new last minute job if you’re interested. I don’t think you’ll have to worry about giving birth in a cave this time. It is pretty strange though.”

“What’s strange about it?” Santana asked.

“It’s a poker chip, a platinum one. It needs to be hauled off to New Vegas. It’s coming in tomorrow afternoon.” Johnson said. “There was a courier assigned the job, but he backed out. Now, I need a new courier to make the delivery before that package gets here. The payout is one thousand caps.”

Santana nodded her head. “That many caps to bring a poker chip to Vegas, it sounds too good to be true.”

“It does, but you know those Vegas types. They burn through their money to get whatever they want.” Johnson said.

“I’ll take the job. I’ll just stay in Primm until the package gets here.”

“I’ll get you set up with the invoice back at the Express.”

* * *

The Tops was back to being the highest earning casino on the Strip. Swank loved seeing the casino floor crowded with tourists and regulars. He leaned on the railing on the second floor of the casino level, alongside Benny. Benny pulled out his pack of cigarettes from his pockets and shook out two white sticks of nicotine. He handed one to Swank. Benny grabbed his lighter from the handkerchief pocket of his suit and sparked a flame. He brought it to the end of his cigarette and offered the lighter to Swank to light his cigarette.

“The Chairmen run Vegas. There’s no questioning it.” Benny took a drag of his cigarette.

Swank blew out a small cloud of smoke into the air. “We nearly tripled our profit in a few months. It’s good to be back on top and not taking handouts from those finky Omertas.”

“The only person holding us back is House.” Benny thought aloud.

Swank quickly turned his head towards Benny. “House set us up with this dig, Benny. What the hell makes you wanna talk about him like that?”

“Okay, House gave us the casino. You’re right about that.” Benny pulled his cigarette from in between his lips. “But if I didn’t stand up to Bingo, the Chairmen wouldn’t be where we are today.”

“Look, I agree with you Benny, but we can’t bite the hand that feeds us. Without House we’d be waving the NCR’s flag in the Aces Theater.” Swank said.

“Swanky, baby, I’m not trying to one up House. I’m just frustrated with the way he goes about his business, that’s all.” Benny pat Swank on his back. “The Chairmen are true blue. We’re the ones making Vegas what it is.”

Swank smoked in silence until he could think of something to change the subject. “I heard the guys over at Radio New Vegas found some old holotape records. It’d be nice to listen to some new tunes for a change.”

“Hopefully that can inspire Tommy to learn a new dance routine.” Benny said. “He’d better be happy people are too drunk to notice they’ve seen the same show a hundred times.”

“Tommy has his plate full. There’s no one left besides the Rad Pack to perform.”  

Benny brought his cigarette back in between his lips. “What about Jackie?”

Swank reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of psycho. He handed it to Benny. “We found her in the bathtub.”

“Is everyone we hire addicted to chems?” Benny stuffed the vial in his pocket and stepped away from the railing.

“Where are you headed, boss?” Swank asked.

“It’s time for my beauty sleep, baby. Ta-ta.” Benny waved his hand in the air as he walked away from Swank. He stepped down the first floor of the casino level and walked into the elevator lobby. He pressed the call button, making the circular button light up with a red color.

The doors to the elevator slid open and Benny stepped inside. He pressed the button to go to the thirteenth floor. That floor was now closed off to the public. Only the Chairmen were allowed to stay within the rooms on that floor. Benny made his way down the hallway. He rummaged his hand in his pocket to retrieve the key to his suite. The double doors to his suite were locked at all times and rarely anyone was invited inside. Even his bodyguards could only be on guard from outside of the suite. Swank would occasionally be able to visit if Benny wanted to have drinks with him or talk business. Benny liked his privacy, but didn’t like keeping his plans so secretive from the Chairmen. He figured that they wouldn’t understand that it wasn’t just about Benny gaining power over the Strip, but for the Chairmen to be the leaders of Vegas.

Benny opened one of the doors to his suite and locked the door behind him once he was inside. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and hung it on the coat rack near the door. Benny walked into his bedroom to get to the workshop. Yes Man’s smiling screen lit up within the darkness of the room. Benny flipped the switch to turn on the lights in the workshop.

“Hi again!” Yes Man greeted Benny.

Benny ignored Yes Man and walked right past the Securitron. He stepped in front of the desk with an old terminal hooked up on it. He tapped at the keyboard until the screen lit up. “Did you send a copy of the Platinum Chip’s data on the terminal?”

“Yes. Also, I took the liberty of keeping tabs on the Mojave Express. Eight couriers have already been logged as the carriers of Mr. House’s packages.” Yes Man said.

“Eight? There should only be seven.” Benny thought aloud.

“Oh! My mistake!” Yes Man rolled back and forth. “There were seven, but one courier that went by the name Ulysses pulled out from the delivery.”

“Who are the couriers?” Benny asked as he logged into the terminal.

“Leah Wilson, Daniel Wyand, Michael Jimenez, Danielle Taylor, Nelson Davis, Santana Roman, and Vernon White.” Yes Man quickly said. Benny’s ears perked up when he heard Santana’s name. For a moment he thought he was hearing things. He asked Yes Man to repeat the list again and he the Securitron had stated her name once more. “Santana Roman is listed as the courier to be delivering the Platinum Chip to New Vegas. The couriers were instructed to travel without a caravan or bodyguards.”

Benny rubbed at his temple. He didn’t want to believe that it would be Santana of all people, but he needed to compose himself. He lowered his voice. “If that’s how the chips have to fall, so be it.”

Benny opened up the terminal and found the file that Yes Man uploaded. He opened it to see an image of the map of the Mojave. It color coded the routes of the different couriers were going to take to get into New Vegas. Some had other packages to deliver so they were going to take the 95 into Freeside. Santana’s route had her going up through Goodsprings to take the Long 15 into Freeside.

Benny logged onto the emails on the terminal and opened a recent unopened message.

_One thousand caps for me and my brothers. That’s my final offer. You can meet us outside of Red Rock Canyon. – McMurphy_

Benny logged out of the terminal. “See you later, Benny!” Yes Man said as Benny walked out of the workshop.

Benny closed the door to the workshop. He tossed his cigarette to the carpet and stomped it out. He unbuttoned his shirt and unbuckled his pants, tossing the clothes aside in a messy pile. Benny pulled back the blankets of his queen sized bed and climbed on top of the mattress. He turned off the light and pulled the blanket over his lower half. He wanted a good night’s sleep before he trekked out into the Mojave first thing in the morning.

Dressed in his checkered suit and armed with nothing but his engraved 9mm pistol, Benny slipped out of the Tops and travelled into the Wasteland. He dug his hands into his pockets as he walked along the dirt and gravel. It had been years since he had done something so tribal. He walked along the destroyed highway until he noticed a group of men huddled together near the side of the freeway. They all wore sleeveless leather jackets with the Great Khan insignia printed on the back. One of the men looked up to see Benny. “You’re late.”

“Fashionably so,” Benny smiled. “McMurphy, I’m guessing.”

The other Khans turned around to see Benny when McMurphy stepped away from the group to shake Benny’s hand. “And you’re Benny.” McMurphy gestured his hands towards another Khan with a tall Mohawk and another with shoulder length blonde hair. “This is Jessup and Chance.”

McMurphy walked Benny over to the small group of Khans. Benny glanced down towards the ground they stood around. Carved in the dirt was a map of the Mojave. It was fairly accurate considering it was carved with a knife. The only problem Benny had with the map was that Vegas happened to be represented with a hole dug in the dirt. “I’m not much of an artist. Nor am I a critic, but that’s not the Vegas I know.”

“Khans can see past the glitz and glam to see Vegas for what it really is.” Jessup adjusted the green and orange pattered bandana tied around his forehead.

McMurphy held his hand out in front of Jessup and stared down Benny. “Let’s quit while we’re ahead and not say anything to strain this partnership.”

Jessup nodded his head in agreement. “Let’s talk shop back at the campsite.”

The trio of Khans escorted Benny into Red Rock Canyon. The beautiful red rock formations acted as a natural barrier for the Great Khan refuge tucked inside. The Khans that Benny traveled with were greeted by their fellow people as they entered the camp. Benny saw women hanging wet fabrics on clothes lines. Some Khan soldiers were practicing their hand-to-hand combat in a small arena in the center of the camp. Children ran around as they played tag. One child tripped over Benny’s wingtip shoe and fell to the ground. Benny stopped in his tracks and glanced down at the child. He guessed that the kid was around seven years old. Dirt that covered his leg seeped into the child’s fresh scrape.

“Are you okay, kid?” Benny asked without giving a helping hand.

“I’m fine.” The scrape didn’t even faze the kid. He hopped right back up and ran off with his friends.

Benny was led up a hill that overlooked most of the Great Khan camp. There were several tents set up on the hill. In the center was a fire pit that roasted a Brahmin. McMurphy, Jessup, and Chance sat on the rocks placed around the fire pit. “Have a seat, relax.” McMurphy said to Benny.

“I’m okay with standing.”

“I got the gist of the job.” McMurphy stretched his legs out. “We’re going after some courier, but why?”

“Because that’s the job I hired you for, simple as that, baby.” Benny said.

“This courier wrong you?” Jessup asked.

“No and the courier isn’t my priority. What she’s carrying is.”

“Sounds like a valuable package.” McMurphy rubbed at his chin. The ends of his handlebar mustache lightly graced over his hand.

“To anyone other than me it’s junk.”

McMurphy brought his hand down from his face. “Okay, so we rob this courier. We gotta get past the mercenary guards.”

“There won’t be any. Armed guards draw attention.” Benny explained.

“So, we go up to the courier and ask politely for the package.” Jessup laughed at his own idea. He smiled faded at the sight of Benny’s cold eyes on him.

There was a brief silence between all of the men until Benny said, “I’d rather our involvement _not_ be known. Leaving the victim alive makes that difficult.”

Jessup studied Benny as the man pulled out his pack of cigarettes and rested a cigarette in between his lips. Jessup shook his head in disgust. “That ain’t the Khan way.”

“What was that?” Benny asked.

Jessup lifted up from the rock he sat on and raised his voice. “I know who you are, Benny! I knew as soon as I saw the suit. You got plenty of boys for this job and yet you decide to hire us! Khans don’t kill for Vegas caps! Right, McMurphy. Tell him it ain’t the Khan way.”

McMurphy looked up at Benny to see the leader of the Chairmen pulling out his engraved lighter. “I think you got the wrong guys for the job, Benny.”

“Don’t make any assumptions. I never said _I_ wouldn’t pull the trigger.” Benny flicked his lighter to spark a small fire.

Jessup crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s fine.”

McMurphy nodded his head. “That arrangement works for me.”

“Then that’s the last of the details?” Benny brought the flame to his cigarette. He looked up from his cigarette to see Chance’s blue eyes staring at him. Sweat dripped down the man’s forehead. “What the hell is his problem?”

“It’s your lighter.” Jessup sat back down.

“One of a kind.” Benny smirked. “He’s some kind of arsonist. He likes fires.”

“You heard of Bitter Springs?” Jessup asked. He continued when Benny said that he did. “Chance was there when NCR hit. Still sees it… still feels it like it was yesterday sometimes. He can’t let go.”

“Do yourself a favor and kiss the past goodbye.” Benny glanced over towards Jessup and McMurphy.

“He has his way of coping.” Jessup said.

“I can see it in his eyes. I’ve known junkies and finks who can’t lay off the poison. If he loses it, he’s your responsibility.” Benny pressed his lips tightly around his cigarette.

McMurphy held his hands out towards the fire. “Khans carry our own. Before we start moving we need to talk payment.”

Benny exhaled a small puff of smoke. “One thousand caps each, but you’re not seeing one until this job is taken care of.”

“Fine, where are we headed?” McMurphy asked.

“Goodsprings, just down the Long 15.” Benny answered.

Before they left Red Rock Canyon, Jessup and McMurphy stocked up on some purified water and extra ammunition for their guns. Benny led the group of Khans out of their own camp and out into the Wasteland. Benny kept his hands stuffed in his pockets as he followed the remnants of the pre-war freeway.

Jessup elbowed McMurphy as they walked side-by-side. He smirked and asked, “That lighter of his, I could use a lighter like that.”

“I already warned you to watch yourself Jessup. We both know he’s Vegas, and if we touch him, the whole damn city will come at us. His tribe already went up against us in the past. Do you see any Khans in Vegas now?”

“What?” Jessup raised his eyebrows. “He’s a tribal?”

“He’s from one the three tribes that Vegas swallowed and spit out into the Families.” McMurphy said.

“That can’t be true.” Jessup looked up to see Benny’s back.

“It’s midday and he’s setting the pace. You tell me.”

* * *

The Platinum Chip looked no different from any other poker chip scattered in the Mojave. Just as the name implied, the poker chip was a platinum color. On the side of the chip was the insignia of the Lucky 38 casino. Santana figured it was worth so much since the Lucky 38 was sealed to the public and anything related to the casino was a collector’s item. Santana stood in front of the counter inside of the Mojave Express. She rocked Noa to sleep in her arms while she waited for Johnson Nash to write up the invoice for the delivery.

“Ruby and I will take good care of Noa while you’re gone.” Johnson said without looking up from his paperwork.

“I trust you guys, but I don’t want anything happening to my baby.” Santana said. “I left bottles of breast milk, onesies, and his diaper. There should be more than enough.”

Johnson clicked his pen and placed the invoice in a mini burlap bag with the Platinum Chip. “Mommy loves you, okay. I’ll be back soon.” Santana kissed Noa before handing the baby off to Johnson.

Santana grabbed the mini burlap bag and tossed it into her backpack that carried her spare guns. She kept a pistol strapped to the harness belt that was buckled across her denim knee-length shorts. She wore her loose black sweater and pulled her hair up into a mini bun on the top of her head. Santana kissed her baby one more time before leaving the Mojave Express.

Though the moon was out and the stars dotted the sky, Santana figured she would be able to make it into Goodsprings before the sky grew dark.  She wanted to be stock up on ammunition and supplies before further travelling down the Long 15. There were too many critters down there that would try to attack her and she didn’t have to ammo for it.

* * *

The lights of Vegas illuminated as the shiny beacon of the Mojave. Benny leaned against one of the steel legs of the water tower and smoked as he stared out at New Vegas. He could hear Jessup complaining about him to McMurphy as the two Khans dug a shallow grave in the cemetery they stood in. It was the second grave that the Khans had to dig. The first was for their friend Chance. He sustained wounds from when the group ran into some Fiends on their way down to the Goodsprings. It was an overdose on psycho that left him buried in an unmarked grave. Benny sported a few cuts and burn marks on his face from the fight with the Fiends, but nothing that seriously injured him.

“I can’t wait till this courier gets here. I’m tired of walking the Mojave with this guy.” Jessup pushed his shovel into the dirt and tossed with he picked up into a pile near their lantern.

“You’re not alone.” McMurphy lifted his bandana to rub his hand across his sweaty forehead.

Jessup and McMurphy excavated a bit more dirt before tossing their shovels off to the side, hitting another grave’s wooden tombstone. Jessup climbed out of the grave and held his hand out to help McMurphy out. “The grave’s done.”

“It’s about time.” Benny turned around to see the Khans dusting off their leather pants.

“It would’ve been fast if you helped us.” McMurphy pointed out. “Come on Jessup, let’s go get a drink at the Saloon.”

Jessup and McMurphy left Benny at the cemetery. They walked down the long hill to get into the town of Goodsprings below. The small town didn’t have much to offer besides a bit of trading and drinks at their saloon. They figured that being Great Khans would garner them a few side-eyes and strange looks from the townsfolk, but it didn’t. The old man that sat on the porch of the Prospector Saloon tipped his hat to them. McMurphy and Jessup returned the friendly gestured and said hello before they stepped into the saloon.

The saloon was busy. Townsfolk sat at booth seats and enjoyed each other’s company. Some sat at the bar and tapped their foot to the tunes played by Radio New Vegas. There weren’t any seats for Jessup and McMurphy to sit, so they leaned on the side of their bar and waved their hand to get the bartender’s attention.

“What can I get for you fellas?” The bartender asked as she made her way over to the Khans.

“A beer, thank you.” McMurphy ordered.

“Some scotch for me.” Jessup said.

“Coming right up. Hey!” She looked past the Khans and smiled. The two men turned around to see who the bartender greeted. It was another woman. McMurphy eyed up and down, liking the curvaceous, and full-figure she had. The bartender worked on the Khans’ drinks as she talked. “It’s been a while since you’ve stopped by the saloon.”

“I picked up some ammo. Thought I could use a drink before I head out to Freeside.” The woman said.

“What can I get you, sweetie?” The bartender asked as she handed Jessup and McMurphy their glasses.

“Just a Nuka-Cola.” She said.

“What are you doing, going all the way to Freeside?”

“It’s a last minute delivery.”

Jessup and McMurphy’s ears perked up. She was the one. They sipped on their drinks slowly while the courier talked with the bartender. Once they said their goodbyes the Khans downed the last of their drinks and followed the courier out of the saloon. They were happy to see that the old man on the porch was gone, leaving them alone with the courier. Jessup quickly ran up from behind and grabbed her by her waist and clasped his hand over her mouth when she yelled.

He dragged her near the rusted pre-war truck near the saloon. “Ow! Shit!” Jessup yelled and let go of the courier’s mouth. Her teeth left marks in his palm. “Come here!” He slammed her against the truck, banging her head hard against the steel. When he let her go, she collapsed to the dirt.

“Get her up. Get her up.” McMurphy quickly said. He removed the backpack from the courier and slung it over his own shoulder. He picked her up by her legs, while Jessup held her by her arms.

The Khans carried the courier up the hill to the Goodsprings Cemetery, where Benny smoked by the water tower still watching over Vegas. Benny didn’t turn around until he heard the Khans drop something onto the ground. His eyes grew when he saw Santana lying unconscious next to the grave the Khans dug. Blood smeared on her forehead from a gash near her hairline. “Is she dead?” He asked.

McMurphy shook his head. “Unconscious. Jessup banged her head against some steel.”

“The hell did you do that for, you fucking fink.” Benny tossed his last cigarette to the ground and stomped it out. He made his way closer to the Khans and Santana. Jessup and McMurphy looked at each other for a second before turning their attention back to Benny. “Did she have anything on her?”

McMurphy slid the backpack from off of his shoulders and tossed in front of Benny. Benny unzipped the backpack and rummaged his hands around the guns stowed inside until he found a small mini burlap bag. He could feel the outline of the Platinum Chip through the fabric. McMurphy furrowed his brows in confusion when he saw Benny take out the poker chip from the bag. “All this for a poker chip?”

“Is that thing silver?” Jessup asked.

“Look, we got what you were after. Now pay up!” McMurphy yelled. “How you wanna finish her off is your business?”

Jessup glanced down at Santana when he heard her soft groans. “Guess who’s waking back up.”

Santana tried to lift her head up from the dirt, but her head throbbed in pain. She slowly opened her eyes to see the familiar checkered suit worn by a man she knew all too well. “Should’ve gotten it over with while she was out.” McMurphy sighed.

“Maybe Khans kill people without looking them in the face, but I ain’t a fink, dig.” Benny watched McMurphy step away to the side, not even wanting to look at the scene folding out before him.

“Benny…” His name came out as a whisper.

Benny took a deep breath. “Baby, I didn’t know it would ever come to this. If there was a way I could change this outcome, I would, but I can’t risk the liability of letting you live.” Benny stowed the Platinum Chip inside the handkerchief pocket of his suit. He reached into his pants pocket to retrieve his 9mm pistol. He aimed his pistol towards Santana’s head and graced his finger on the trigger.


	8. Mama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No need for a trigger warning anymore for this chapter. Originally in the chapter there was some backstory for Santana, but I took it out because it was written on a whim and I just realized it doesn't fit the rest of it that I wrote, so it's taken out. If you read it before I deleted it, please disregard it. :)

Santana’s blood-curdling scream pierced through the men’s ears. McMurphy rubbed at his face and did his best not to look at her. Jessup lowered his head and watched the dirt as he kicked his feet in it. Benny was the only one that could stare at Santana. Santana lied face down in the dirt. Her blood coated the minerals around her head. Benny could see her hands trembling uncontrollably. Benny tightened his grip around his pistol as he stepped closer to Santana. He lowered himself and pushed her head up with the barrel of his gun. The tears that fell from her eyes, mixed with the blood that seeped from her nostrils and mouth, and dripped down her chin.

She struggled to breath, choking on her own blood. Benny pitied her. She wouldn’t even be able to say her last words. He figured Santana would say that she hates him. A part of him wanted him to hear that she loved him, but he felt sick from even thinking that. Benny grabbed Santana’s hand. It shook in his, until he tightened his grip. “I wish it could’ve been some other way, baby.” Benny whispered. He pressed his gun onto Santana’s head. The gunfire made Jessup jump. McMurphy turned around to see Benny let go of Santana’s hand. Her limp arm dropped down to the dirt. Benny lifted up. He rubbed at the lower half of his face before stowing away his pistol.

Benny left Santana’s burial for the Khans to take care of. He had to think ahead. If he carried Santana’s body into the grave, her blood would be all over his suit. That would garner unnecessary attention and questions. He watched the men. He wanted to make sure they weren’t rough with Santana’s body. Once she was buried, the three men traveled further into Goodsprings. Benny finished all of his cigarettes back in the cemetery and he needed one now more than ever.

Benny opened the door to the Prospector Saloon. He watched the people of Goodsprings enjoy themselves in the saloon, oblivious to the murder that took place not too far away. Benny leaned against the bar, quickly getting the bartender’s attention. “You sell any Thin Mans here, baby?”

“We don’t carry that brand of cigarettes.” She said. “We have some Mojave Spirits if you want. Seventy-two caps for a carton.”

“I’ll pass. How much for a drink?” Benny asked.

“Depends on what poison you pick.” The bartender said.

“Bourbon. Neat.” Benny ordered.

“That’s twelve caps. Give me a minute. I’ll have your drink out soon.” The bartender worked on the drinks for the patrons that ordered before Benny.

Benny leaned on the bar, waiting for his drink. He could feel the eyes of the old man next to him staring in his direction. “Do you like the suit?” Benny asked without looking at the old man. The old man grumbled and drank the last of his whiskey.

The pre-war song on the radio faded out and Mr. New Vegas’s voice came through the speakers. _“Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen. This is Mr. New Vegas. Thank you very much for listening. If you like news, then you’re gonna love our new segment. With more reports of deathclaw sightings, the NCR has shut down any travelling on the Long 15 to Vegas. If you’re hoping to swing down to New Vegas, get your boots ready to travel up the 95. When you get to the big city, stop by the Tops and wind down with the Rad Pack Revue at the Aces Theater. Today’s news was brought to you by The Tops casino. You’ll dig us, baby, we’re the tops.”_

Jessup sighed at the newscast. Their encounter with the Fiends on their way to Goodsprings disturbed a cazador nest. Taking the I-15 would’ve made it faster and easier to get back to Red Rock Canyon. With those options gone, he and McMurphy were stuck travelling with Benny longer than they wanted to.

* * *

Although Benny was the leader of the Chairmen, Swank pretty much ran the Tops. He worked wherever he was needed, whether it was behind the scenes making business moves or working the front desk to let his men get the day off. Swank made his way into the Aces Theater. He heard the cheers and applause that erupted in the theater as soon as he stepped through the door. The Rad Pack Revue was the most popular show at the Aces. Hell, it was the only actual show at the Aces.

To keep people entertained, Swank and Tommy came up with an open stage act. Lucky audience members would be given the chance to show off their talent on stage. Swank stepped over to the bar. He ordered a glass of whiskey and watched Tommy on stage.

“Give it up one more time for the Rad Pack!” Tommy smiled when the crowd cheered. He waited for them to settle down before saying, “Our next act came from Freeside to prove to the Aces that he’s the funniest man in the Mojave. Please give a warm welcome to Quincy Knight!”

Tommy clapped with the crowd as an older man made his way on the stage. He patted Quincy on the back and stepped down from the stage to let the old man have it all to himself. Tommy walked across the theater to get to the bar where Swank stood.

“This was a good idea Swank, letting the people perform.” Tommy ordered vodka mixed with Nuka-Cola from the bar. “Maybe instead of us going out to find talent, the talent will come to us.”

“That was the idea.” Swank sipped on his drink.

* * *

Benny was in awe of the rollercoaster that was built with the Bison Steve casino the first time he saw it. That was back in his tribal days, when the littlest things impressed him. He stared at the old hotel. Without the influence of Vegas to help it, the hotel would never see better days. Benny and the Khans made their way to the Vikki and Vance casino. There weren’t too many people inside. Most of the people inside were either had their eyes glued to the screen of the slot machines or sat at the bar. The music that played in the casino was drowned out by the screams and crying of a baby. Benny sat in front of a slot machine next to an older woman, while the Khans unwound at the bar. The crying grew louder and Benny looked away from his slot machine to see an older man standing right next to the woman.

In his arms the man held a small baby. “Ruby, I can’t find the baby’s bottle. Did you move it?”

“Johnson, I didn’t move it.” Ruby said without looking away from the slot machine. “It should still be in the cooler.”

“I didn’t see it in there.”

“They’re all in there.”

“Not the one Noa was drinking earlier.” Johnson said.

Ruby sighed and got up from her stool. “Play the slots for me. I’ll go find it in the cooler for you.”

“I told you it… fine.” Johnson sat in the stool where his wife played. He tried to rock the baby to get him to stop crying. He held out the baby in the air, making him stop crying. Benny glanced over to see the baby. He had large brown eyes. The baby was dressed in a patchwork onesie with little booties to match. The baby stretched his mouth out wide and yawned. “Your mother didn’t warn me about how much of a handful you are. I’m starting to think you’re just crying to put on a show. He’s a cute kid, ain’t he?”

Benny didn’t realize the old man was talking to him until their eyes met. Johnson was taken aback by how cold Benny’s eyes were. “I hate kids. They’re too loud. They get in the way.”

“Noa, I think he’s talking about you.” Johnson smiled at the baby.

“Don’t hold the baby like that, Johnson.” The old man and Benny looked over to see Ruby Nash walking towards them. She held a bottle in one hand and a small towel in the other. “His mother would kill you if she knew you were throwing Noa in the air.”

“I wasn’t throwin’ the boy.” Johnson said. “Where’d you find that bottle?”

“In the cooler like I told you. I warmed the milk over the stove.” She handed Johnson the bottle and the towel after he lowered the baby.

“What’s the towel for?” Johnson asked.

“Santana said he’s a messy eater.” Ruby said.

“You can’t eat milk, Ruby.”

“You know what I mean.”

Hearing Santana’s name distracted Benny from the old couple’s bickering. His gaze was fixated on the baby that Johnson held in his arms. There was no way that was her child. It had to be a coincidence. “Where’s his mother?” Benny asked.

Noa opened his mouth and slightly stuck out his tongue when he saw the bottle. Johnson brought the nipple to the baby’s lower lip and Noa latched onto it. Johnson tilted bottle as soon as the baby began to suck. “His mom’s out on a delivery job.” Johnson answered.

Benny cleared his throat. “What about his father?”

“I don’t know, never met him myself. Santana only mentioned him once before.” Johnson said. “Said he lived in New Vegas. She gave the baby the father’s last name, Siegel. Noa Oliver Siegel.”

“Johnson.” Ruby snapped. “That’s not your business to tell.”

Benny bit the inside of his cheek. He knew he was looking down at his own son. In a perfect world he would’ve accepted the idea of raising a lineage. Of course he would’ve wanted to have been older and not kill the mother of his child.

Jessup slammed down his half empty glass of whiskey. The Khan’s normally pale face was blushing red. He laid his head on the bar. McMurphy sighed. “Lightweight.” He said before downing the last of his whiskey. McMurphy didn’t have to turn around to feel Benny’s looming presence behind him. “You thought of a route for us to take?”

Benny stuffed his hands in his pockets. “We take the 95 and go our separate ways in Boulder City.”

“Where’s our payment?” McMurphy asked.

“I’m keeping you Khans on a leash. You’ll get your caps in Boulder City.” Benny said.

McMurphy grabbed Jessup’s glass and drank the rest of his whiskey. “I hope you’re planning on raising our paycheck. Taking the 95 wasn’t a part of the plan.”

“We’ll see when that time comes. Get your friend. We’re heading out again. We can’t risk staying here.”

McMurphy bit his tongue. He didn’t want to say anything to Benny that would jeopardize him and Jessup’s payment. He shook Jessup’s shoulder until the Khan slowly picked his head up from the bar. “C’mon, we’re leaving.”

Jessup groaned. “Fuck can’t we… can’t we leave… tomorrow.”

“I wish.” McMurphy got up from his stool. He waited for Jessup to get up, unlike Benny who had already begun to leave the casino.

* * *

_Connect to: PDQ-88b. RobCo Securitron Model 2060-B_

_Designation: Victor_

Defunct powerlines lined up on the dirt road. A windmill slowly turned near to a pen that housed bighorners. Mr. House could see Goodsprings through his Securitron, Victor. The Securitron sent word to House that he spotted Benny in the cemetery near the small town. Victor rolled through the quiet town; the humming of his machinery was only rivaled by the music coming from the Prospector Saloon when he rolled past the building.

The Securitron traveled up the hill that led to the cemetery. It overlooked Goodpsrings and had a clear view of the Strip. “Something bad happened here, pardner.” Victor’s southern accent came through the speakers of the Securitron. He quickly found the freshly filled grave and began to dig through the dirt.

“Looks like we found our friend.” The Securitron said when he uncovered a hand underneath the soil. He kept digging until Santana’s entire body was exposed in the grave. He used his clawed hands to pick her up from the grave. “We’re gonna take you to a nice doctor, friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always felt like Benny's last name would've been Siegel. I mean, Bugsy Siegel seems like the inspiration for his character's model and suit.


End file.
